Nobody Knows What I See
by minniegoetze
Summary: In physics, electrons will often create a powerful spark regardless of their distance. Perhaps it wasn't meant to happen, but Vincent and Cam felt the spark nonetheless. Takes place during season 5 and beginning of season 6. (Vague prequel to Sweet Wine to Vinegar)
1. Slight Intrigue

**Author's Note: Vincent/Cam was cute in seasons 4-6…now it's a bit sad, I know, but it's summer vacation, I'm revving to write, and I love to live in the past.**

It was a very simply gesture, almost comically so. Vincent walked into the autopsy room to find Cam standing at her desk, as tall and statuesque as always. With one graceful hand, she held her hair bun and with the second she was removing bobby pins from it, slowly and deliberately. Doing so made the usually tight and coiffed style give way to a loose pony tail, equal parts silky and soft. Whatever information Vincent had come to pass on was long forgotten now.

As if time itself was slowing purely for Vincent, Cam very gingerly pulled at the hair elastic of the pony tail which released the cascade of long, dark hair. The thump of his heart began to beat at a slightly faster rate now as she ran her fingers through the beautiful, wavy strands, completely unaware of his presence. Surely, Cam without her strict up-do was an especially rare sight and the color growing on his cheeks recognized this.

Full of resolute, Cam began to coax the beautiful hair into a tighter pony tail, elegant fingers still working through it. As she smoothed the ponytail, gathering it in her hands, Vincent felt his breath hitch as he gave into leaning on the doorframe. The elegance and focus that she equipped for this arguably mundane routine left him intrigued, that and her gorgeous hair itself.

She twisted the ponytail into a hair bun, holding the bobby pins between her teeth, and expertly contained the previously loose mass. As she began pinning it back, her eyes slightly wandered into her periphery when she noticed the aloof British squintern leaning on the doorframe.

"Mr. Nigel-Murray, do you need something? How long have you been standing there?" Cam asked, parts quizzical and surprised.

Vincent's cheeks flushed and he jumped from his leaning position. "O-oh. Um, no time at all, Dr. Saroyan." He stumbled over his words like a small child caught in the cookie jar. "Did you know that contrary to popular folklore the bumble bee actually possesses the physiology to indeed fly?"

Her eyes narrowed and head tilted in growing confusion. "You left your work to come all the way to my office to tell me…nothing?"

"Well, Dr. Hodgins d-did find something on the body." He reached his arm behind his head nervously.

"And?" Cam asked expectantly, patience decreasing by the second.

"That's all, Dr. Saroyan." The nerves on his face had begun to pull together a slight smile.

Head tilting at the look on his face, she continued. "So, _you_ left your work to come all the way to my office so I can walk _all_ the way to Hodgins' station to hear what he found?"

"Ah, precisely." He said. "I am fostering an environment of workplace comradery."

She slowly nodded. "If you want to call it that, Mr. Nigel-Murray. Didn't you think to bring that information with you?"

"Oh, well my mind is just a jumble of thoughts right now."

Cam frowned again, eyebrow raising in mild suspicion. "Alright…" She said while walking past him. Watching her go, he felt one final jolt to his system as he saw her meticulously tuck away a strand of hair that had escaped the hair bun.

* * *

"Mr. Nigel-Murray, have you found cause of death yet?" The question entered his ears, but his brain didn't bother to make any sense of it. "Are you paying attention?" The voice that might've belong to Dr. Brennan repeated.

"Hm?" Vincent perked up from lapse in consciousness as he stared off into the X-rays.

"The cause of death? You've been staring at the bones for a while, clearly you should be onto something…" Brennan began again, annoyance slowly building.

"Oh," He tilted his head at the X-rays. "Did you know that black hair is the most common hair color in the world?" His mind slipped back into the beautiful sight of flowing black hair he stumbled upon earlier in the day. It wasn't just the sight itself that caused the thrill, but it was also the idea of seeing her in a position that was even somewhat removed from the strict boss-intern relationship.

"There is no hair left on the victim, so I fail to understand the relevance of that and if there was, surely that fact would not help us in identifying him. " Brennan's brown furrowed. "Are you sick, Mr. Nigel-Murray? You are typically my most attentive intern. Are you distracted by your impending dissertation?"

"It's something along those lines, I suppose." He cleared his throat. "There does appear to be a great deal of breaks and fractures on the bones, this could be cause of death." He said, turning his attention back to the bones on the lab table.

Analyzing the injuries Vincent indicted, Brennan's look of suspicion rose. "The lack of hemorrhaging shows that these injuries were sustained postmortem. Any undergraduate student could see that…"

He stared at the bones for a moment too long, hand caressing his chin in thought. "Intriguing…"

Brennan stood upright to face him. "Are you drunk? Consuming any drugs or alcohol while at work is not allowed, Mr. Nigel-Murray, and I could report you to Dr. Saroyan."

"Drunk? Oh no, Dr. Brennan I could never manage that at work." Letting his chin fall into his hands, he continued. "And I highly doubt Dr. Saroyan could help me focus."

Losing her patience, she frowned even more. "Perhaps you should take your lunch break, Mr. Nigel-Murray. Come back when you are ready to take the case seriously, if not we may have to reconsider your hours at the Jeffersonian." Her assertive, tough tone fell on deaf ears and failed to jolt him back to reality.

"Ah, alright." He said, cheeks still rosy and tone still distracted. Making his way to the break area atop the catwalk, he didn't even think to actually bring his lunch. He took off his lab coat and sat down on the couch, elbows resting on the coffee table and his hands folded, as he considered his jumbled synapses. The lack of hemorrhaging on those bones would be quite easy to notice, that was quite a blunder he would admit, but he simply felt too flustered to even look carefully at the damage.

It wasn't like he hadn't noticed how pretty Cam was, admittedly all of his coworkers were, heck even Hodgins could be from time to time. And he had encountered his fair share of attractive women in his lifetime, if they actually returned the sentiment was another issue, however. But it hadn't been quite like this, he hadn't felt so completely overcome.

* * *

It was a truly interesting thing to witness, Cam thought as she noticed the squintern in the break area grounded in thought. Vincent managed to be quite a paradox in that he was both extremely focused and intelligent, yet also managed to be the most easily distracted and aloof of his fellow grad students.

Holding her yellow coffee mug, she considered his furrowed eyebrows and intense eyes, clearly consumed by his rapid firing thoughts. Like all of her colleagues, she couldn't help but wonder what even took place in that complicated tangle called his mind. Sometimes getting distracted by that tangle couldn't make him a bad worker for his still tried his best and clearly cared about his work.

Though Cam often preferred Brennan's attitude of distance and discipline with the interns, maybe she was a tad too hard on Vincent. Considering their delicate work environment, she could at least try to be more understanding and accommodating unlike her behavior earlier in the day.

"Dr. Saroyan? Do you need something?" Cam had lost herself so deep in thought that she hasn't noticed Vincent's break from his trance of contemplation.  
She stood up straighter from her previous lean again the metal railing. "Oh," she patted her hair and cleared her throat. "Did Dr. Brennan already give you your lunch break?"

He winced. "More like strongly suggested I take one. She claims that I am 'off my game,' as Agent Booth might say." He returned to his position of contemplation.  
She carefully sat down across from him. "Well, as we all know Dr. Brennan has very high expectations for her students."

His attention perked, could her previously strict demeanor actually be growing to one of understanding?

"And sometimes, they are a bit unfair." She was avoiding his beaming, cobalt eyes in thought. "Maybe, she hasn't really forgiven herself for not picking up on Zach's...secretive behavior. I'm not sure if any of us every really will." Her features grew somewhat somber with eyes glazing over and mouth tensing.

The tingling, woozy feeling of distraction was shaken from his body now, and his own features were struck by just how sad she looked. Over his year at the Jeffersonian, he had gathered how highly they regarded Zach, but had never understood the deeper emotional toll until he saw it expressed on Cam's typically rigid face.

"It's quite alright, Dr. Saroyan. I like to think that the height of Dr. Brennan's expectations will prepare me for any trials I may encounter on the job." He finished with a sense of encouragement, trying his best to lighten the mood. Was that the suggestion of a smile he saw? It did look quite good in her, he thought, as his cheeks warmed.

"That's a very productive way to look at it, Mr. Nigel-Murray." She replied assertively, as if trying to re-establish the protection against her slip of emotional sensitivity. Noticing his bright look of encouragement did pull her muscles into a slight smile, though, and his cheerful eyes weren't too bad now that she let herself look at them. She stood up, straightening her dress, but in the process a small lock of hair escaped the prim bun. "I look forward to you and Dr. Brennan discovering cause of death."

His mouth opened to say something about the escaped piece of hair, but all that managed to escape was a soft "Thank you." As she walked away, he realized he began and ended his break the same way; mystified and distracted.


	2. Love Sick

**Author's Note: I'm not sure how many people who read my other vimille story noticed/cared, but I mentioned that I listed some links to other cute vimille fics/other things in my profile, but the links weren't working. :( I think I've managed to fix them, but they do require a lil work. If you're interested in looking at them, thank you so much! Even if you're bothering to read this, thank you as well. :)**

When Vincent came to work the next day he almost thought that his blessed encounters with Cam had been a dream. The sheer grace and vulnerability that he witnessed was simply too mystifying, too exciting, too electrifying.

Vincent, Angela, Hodgins, and Brennan were still scrutinizing the bones on the platform.

"I'm still working on the ID, but I think I need more identifiable markers for our victim." Angela stated.

"He's wrestling leprechaun; I'm sure he won't be too hard to find." Hodgins asserted as he picked at some bits of silt that had been embedded in the bones.

Angela raised an eyebrow at him. "Ah, you just think my job is _so_ easy, don't you?" She retorted and met him with a look of both annoyance and flirtation.

"Ahem, the mythology of the leprechaun before the 20th century actually had the creature wearing red and not his popular green." Vincent said with a smile, but was only met with irritation from Hodgins and Angela.

"Back to cause of death, Mr. Nigel-Murray..." Brennan said from her position at the foot of the body. "Are you feeling more focused now that you've had an opportunity to rest?"

Vincent's cheeks blushed at her question. "Oh, yes, uh well I'm quite fine, quite fine." He mumbled.  
Hodgins' face became puzzled. "You were sick yesterday? I didn't notice."

"Oh," Vincent said softly. "Not s-sick, just head in the clouds I suppose." He shifted his eyes from Hodgins' probing gaze.  
"That's unlike you." Angela said, but Vincent couldn't pick up on whether she was being sarcastic or not.

Hodgins propped himself on his elbows and leaned closer to Vincent, practically forcing him into eye contact. "W-what?" Vincent asked fraught with worry over what the scientist was plotting.

Continuing to hold his gaze, Hodgins began again. "You know, I think you are really sick. It's this new thing I've heard about; shortness of breath, distracted mind, butterflies in the stomach, and increased blood flow to one's cheeks and _other_ areas; it's called being love sick, my dear friend." His bushy eyebrows raised and lowered suggestively.

"I don't think that's a legitimate disease, Hodgins." Brennan said with a confused look.

"Sweetie, he's kidding." Angela said. "But oh Vinnie boy, do dish on the juice." She leaned on her elbows with Hodgins.  
His cheeks flushed and he swallowed a lump in his throat. "Oh no, no juice, no juice whatsoever."

"Oh man, you _totally_ have the hots for someone. You're practically sweating." Hodgins pressed. "Does she work here? Do we know her?"

Vincent's face grew even more red. "No...! No. Ahem, shall we get back to finding cause of death, Dr. Brennan?"

"Though I often dismiss Dr. Sweets' practice, he has advised me that building more personal relationships with your coworkers can establish a more productive environment, so perhaps Mr. Nigel-Murray you should indeed spill this 'juice'." Brennan said with her typical matter-of-fact tone.

Angela responded with a fevered nod. "Is it me?" She flirted.

"Did you know that during sexual activity the inner nose also becomes erect!" He nearly yelled, his nervous bubbling like boiling water. "I'm going to go clean the bones!"

* * *

After escaping the intense confrontation with Angela, Hodgins, and Brennan, Vincent focused on cleaning the remaining sediment from the bones. As he meticulously cleaned, he was frustrated with how the bones still retained their odd green color, but it was truly nothing compared to the frustrations of his feeble heart.

Oh, he didn't even know what he would do if he saw Cam. When he encountered her on the catwalk, he had been too shocked to dwell and fret like he was now. It was a small tinge of vulnerability that he had witnessed, but it invigorated and jumbled his system just the same. His system was jolted again when he heard the familiar clack of high heels entering the examination room.

"G-good morning, Dr. Saroyan." He greeted her in a tone that was trying to be cheerful, yet still neautral.

"Good morning, Mr. Nigel-Murray." Cam responded, arms crossed as usual, with an equally conflicting tone. "Angela believes that she has identified our victim, so now all we have to focus on his cause of death.

"Ah, yes, yes." He nodded, forcing himself to stare at the bones and not at her. As he focused on the ribs, he did notice her sleek ponytail out of the corner of his eye, but was far too flustered to say anything about it. "I think I've found some slight abrasions on the ribs now that they've been cleaned."

To his slight surprise, she joined him on the same side of the lab table, analyzing the abrasions he was describing. This certainly wasn't going to help, Vincent thought, not only was _the_ hair so close, but he could even smell her perfume and it made him even more flushed.

"I do see that, but they're at an odd angle don't you think?" Cam asked, only moving in closer to him.

"Hm, I suppose. I'm sure Angela can work on some possible scenarios while Hodgins continues to sift through the contents of the hole." He responded, trying not to breathe through his nose. "In the leprechaun's original mythology, he actually wore red and not green."

"Huh," She said with a slight smile. "That's actually interesting."

After being previously shot down by Angela and Hodgins, her appreciation only brought more warm blood to his face. "Actually, Dr. Saroyan," He began. "I wanted to apologize for being somewhat dismissive the other day. A-and I don't mean to be intrusive either." Her eyes softened, but her mouth was somewhat tense in surprise.

"If I had the pleasure to know Zach, I wouldn't have blamed myself for not seeing the signs sooner. Behavior is a sensitive thing, and one can't be expected to pick up on every minute detail." He could hardly believe the ease he was talking to her with. "But, one also shouldn't feel ashamed for expressing their guilt since it is a difficult situation."

Vincent could feel his heart wrench as they met eyes, his beaming blues and her soft copper ones. "T-thank you," Cam said almost breathlessly. No intern had ever been brave enough to bridge such a gap with her before, and it took her a second to fully process it. Dealing with Zach had been difficult; it was difficult for all of them.

There was a beat where Vincent would've said you're welcome, maybe throw in another fact, and they would be on their separate ways, but it passed. Nerves still firing in the back of his head, he still managed to hold himself in a complete calm as he could feel himself being pulled deeper and deeper into her eyes as they maintained their close proximity.

Odd, warm air mixing between them, he opened his mouth to speak. "The ponytail suits you."


	3. The Spark

Cam was mixed with too many emotions for her face to focus on just one, leaving her expression somewhat listless. All she had manage to stutter was a thank you, but of course there was more than that. There was the part of her that was very appreciative for his kindness, the part that was a flurry with surprise at this blatant disregard for workplace formality, and then the idea that his face-now producing tiny beads of sweat-was actually quite cute in a "bumbling English-man" sort of way.

"The ponytail suits you." Was all Vincent could muster. He had hoped the simple compliment would jolt them back into reality, but he still felt the odd energy that was pulling them together.

"Oh, well, um, thank you." She somewhat nervously stroked the ponytail in an attempt to feel normal against _that_ look he was giving her, though it was a weak point of distraction.

He didn't mean to continue looking at her like this, but the combination of her deep eyes, sweet perfume, and the tense hot air kept him drawn in. He became so distracted by this mixture that it kept him from noticing his eyes closing and the light contact with her lips.

The kiss was soft at first, but the contact caused a lurch in both of their stomach's just the same. His heart was throbbing and the small drops of sweat became even more pronounced, but the spark propelled him to kiss her again, now deeper.

His lips were much softer than she had thought they would be, his sheer boldness was just as surprising. The dazzling, new sensation shut off the more reasonable and strict parts of her brain. As her hand connected with his forearm, the spark in her nerves compelled her to return the gentle kiss.

The exhilaration of the moment seemed to relinquish all of Vincent's jumpy nerves as he placed his gloved hands to her face, continuing their lip lock. The deeper contact did manage to jolt Cam free from those dazed parts of her brain as she pulled away from him. "We should be working. T-that shouldn't have happened." She said, cheeks flushed.

"R-right." He quickly turned away from her, as if his attention was swiftly taken to the bones. The look on his face wasn't quite disappointment, but some brand of disbelief and shock. "I think I hear, um, Hodgins calling for something, I-I should probably see what it is." He mumbled.

"Um, yes, and I'll leave to um, I have to go to…" She uncharacteristically stuttered through her nerves as she walked backwards out of the examination room.

When she slinked away, he held his head in his hands in frustration. _Two-thirds of people fall in love with someone they've known for some time versus someone they've just met,_ he quipped to no one in particular.

* * *

"Cam? Hellooo?"

Cam perked up, completely unaware of Angela and Brennan looking at her. "What?"

"I was able to program different scenarios that correspond with the abrasions on the victim's ribs like Vincent asked me to." Cam winced at the mention of his name, but let Angela continue. "Are you okay?"

"Me? Okay? Yes, totally, I'm totally okay." Cam nodded, trying her darndest to sound convincing. After her brush with Vincent, her head was very foggy as would be expected. She didn't even know how she felt about what happened, much less how she even allowed it _to_ happen. It was thrilling and nice, and he was a very sweet person when she allowed him the chance, but she didn't want to feel that way. That warm, fuzzy feeling for someone so inappropriate, not just in age but in position, personality, and probably every facet possible.

"According to Hodgins, there is some kind of bug going around. Perhaps you caught it from Mr. Nigel-Murray." Brennan proposed, completely oblivious as per usual.

"Vincen- Mr. Nigel-Murray? No, no no, I haven't caught anything from him." The pitch of Cam's voice rose slightly in growing stress.

"Sweetie, that was a joke Hodgins made; nobody is getting sick." Angela reassured Brennan, placing a hand on her arm. "Now come on, I've worked very hard on these pretty little scenarios; let's run through them so we can actually catch a criminal here."

* * *

"Dr. Sweets, I need to talk to you." Cam barged into Sweets' office and sat down on the couch opposite him without an invitation.

"Oh, hello Dr. Saroyan." Sweets settled down into his own chair, somewhat relishing in one of the Jeffersonians entering _his_ domain of psychology and feelings. "Have you taken a look at those personnel evaluations I gave you? They're going to improve your administrative duties, I swear." He said with a gleam in his eyes.

"Actually, no…" Sweets frowned. "I need to talk to someone about a... thing. A bad, but maybe good thing." Cam struggled to piece together the most neutral terms possible.

"Ah yes, a bad but good thing. How very specific of you, Dr. Saroyan." Now Cam frowned. "Is this a work thing? Personal thing? Romantic thing?"

"All three?"

Sweets look somewhat annoyed. "Ugh, more romance stuff, seriously? I don't even technically work for the Jeffersonian, just the FBI, yet every other day you guys are unloading all of this relationship drama." He took a stiff breath. "A young adult heterosexual male can only take so much."

Irritation sprung up on Cam's face. "Do you want to help or not?!"

He sighed. He had to obtain their trust in soft science some way. "Fine, fine, fine. What is this thing and why is it so 'bad-good'?"

"Well," She took a deep breath, avoiding his probing eyes. "There is a...man? And well we, um, have known each other for awhile, but recently things h-have changed and we, well, kissed...each other."

"Wow, kissing, that's astounding." Sweets said sarcastically, chin resting in his hand in boredom.

"I'm going to leave, Dr. Sweets." Cam crossed her arms in annoyance. She was putting herself so far out there already.

Sweets sighed again. "Fine, but you have to give me more than that. Therapy only works if you work with therapy."

"Okay, okay." She held up her hands, letting down the defences. "The reason why it's…'bad-good' is because I shouldn't have let him kiss me, but I did, and it wasn't exactly the worst thing ever. H-he is quite cute and sweet, but I shouldn't have let myself get into that because we're just so wrong for each other; we're far too different." She tried not to give too much away, but still tried to play along.

He sat back, mulling over her answer. Folding his hands, he leaned in. "If you were _so_ set on the idea that you and this man are too different for each other and that the kiss was a mistake as you claim, you wouldn't be in here. Your mind would be fully made up, and there would be no question. There seems to be a significant part of you that doesn't actually care about these differences and enjoyed the encounter with him."

"Ah, but I don't and I didn't."

He laughed. "Man, you guys all think I'm just some witch doctor, but I swear I know you guys better than you know yourselves." Cam rolled her eyes. There was a good part of her that just wanted him to agree with her, but naturally he knew what he was talking about.

"This is only going to get better when you confront it, head on. You have to decide if you're on the side of living life to the fullest and ignoring these differences, or side with the idea of staying in your box, away from any distractions." He said resolutely. "Now, do I know him?"

She blushed and her eyes widened reflexively. "What? No, no, he doesn't work here. We, um, met online."

"Hm, doesn't work here? Are you sure? Because before you said this kissing angst stemmed from a 'work thing' as well." He crossed his arms, a knowing look on his face.

"Oh, no, I just misspoke." She quickly stood up, smoothing her hair. "Are we done here?"

Sweets rubbed his chin. "Yes, of course."

"And let's not tell anyone about this...discussion."

"Oh yes, patient confidentiality." He maintained his cunning expression, causing a look of both confusion and alarm in Cam.

"Alright…"

* * *

 **Author's Note: Every time I watch a scene with Vincent and Cam I literally can't breathe oh my gosh I'm suuuch a baby about this ship even almost a decade later.**

 **Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this far! I'm still so stunned that anyone is even willing to read this, seriously.**


	4. Relatively Obvious

After Angela had discovered the correct scenario of the murder, the case quickly wrapped up. The Jeffersonian was onto its next intern which left Cam with blessedly little time to run into Vincent again. In her mind, if she avoided being reminded of this confusing, conflicting _thing_ then it simply didn't exist. She wouldn't have to pick between staying in her box or living vicariously. That sentiment was short-lived, however, when Vincent naturally came up in the rotation again.

The awkward sentiment was palpable when Vincent met Cam and Brennan on the platform with their latest victim. "Good morning Dr. Brennan, Dr. Saroyan." He greeted with his typical glee.

Brennan, too focused on the body encased in the chuck of clay, ignored him, but Cam naturally felt obligated to at least try and act normal and polite. "Um, good morning, Mr. Nigel-Murray." Cam replied with something that was between a smile and a wince. Vincent returned a similar smile, continuing the farce of complete normalcy as if Brennan would care about or noticed any differences in their behaviors.

Frankly, he didn't even think he was going to come back to the Jeffersonian at all. Though he respected Cam, there was a part of him that was concerned about his getting fired over his little "stunt." And of course, the encounter left him on equally conflicting emotional ground. He had certainly felt something, over the past few days and when he kissed her, but the strict ethos of the lab had little regard for woozy, hopelessly romantic feelings.

"It's going to be very difficult to extract the bones from the clay," Brennan remarked as she considered the chunk of clay.

Vincent perked up. "What about spraying the body in liquid nitrogen and simply shattering the clay?" He said with evident pride as an attempt to score points with not only his boss, but also his crush.

Brennan's eyes slightly narrowed. "The liquid nitrogen would make the bones brittle and could end up destroying pieces of evidence."

"Ah," Vincent began, the hope in his voice dwindling. "But the idea of using liquid nitrogen still needed stating." It was a last scrape for dignity, but according to the confusion growing in Brennan's face she didn't notice much less care. He did recall what Cam had told him all that time ago-the encounter that started this whole tangle of emotions in the first place-about their difficulties with Zach, but her attitude stung just the same.

Cam was occupied with using a lamp to try and see further into a crack between the sediment until an ooze of small, black spiders began to crawl out. She shrieked and jumped back, nearly dropping the lamp in the process. To both of their surprise, she instinctively jumped toward Vincent and grabbed his upper arm.

"Spiders!" Her grip on his arm tightened as more fear crept into her voice. "I-I really don't like spiders and there's just thousands of...of little creepy spiders coming out of there."

All of his senses seized, but for a reason far from the baby spiders. He tentatively placed a hand over hers. "D-Dr. Saroyan, you're hurting my arm j-just a tad." Though he reveled in her touch, he reveled less so in her digging nails.

Her cowering self was so frightened that it was like she was in a trance, completely unaware of what she was doing. Jolted back into consciousness she quickly let go and cleared her throat. "M-my bad, Mr. Nigel-Murray." She turned away her head in embarrassment.

"It's alright, don't apologize." He whispered. "I'll go get Hodgins, don't worry." As he sped away, Cam met Brennan's quizzical eyes and head tilted in confusion.

"What is it, Dr. Brennan?" Cam nervously smoothed her bun and began itching at the back of her neck. Brennan broke out of her own trance, eyes widened and expression softening.

"Oh, well the spiders are, um, a very peculiar find." She avoided Cam's drilling and nervous look. "I'm sure Hodgins will be able to deduce important evidence from them. It's all very interesting, yes."

"Yes, the spiders...are terrifying but u-useful I suppose." Cam turned away; the itch was worsening but she suspected it was no longer just from her fear of spiders anymore.

When Hodgins and Vincent arrived with the vacuum, Brennan made a flimsy excuse to leave. Cam cursed herself. Who knew Brennan could manage to pick up on such subtleties? Clearly, she had actually managed to learn something from her time with Sweets. Though, a side of Cam's subconscious nagged, she wasn't exactly being subtle in her death grip on poor Vincent.

Attention returning to the equally nerve-racking spiders, Cam was still itching and jumpy, but now as far away from Vincent as possible. "Don't miss that one," She pointed at one that was scurrying away from Hodgins' vacuum.

"Don't worry, don't worry, I've got it." Hodgins said, the image of complete calm.

"Some male spiders are known to pluck their webs like a guitar in order to attract the attention of the female spiders." Vincent said, eyes looking past Hodgins and meeting Cam's. Her eyes widened and brows furrowed, giving Vincent her not-so-subtle "what are you doing" look. He returned it with a soft, goofy smile, clearly this was his attempt at flirting.

"Someone should tell them that drummers get all the girls." Hodgins made an amused face. "Is there anyone you're plucking your web for, Vince? C'mon, I swear my own love life is more dead than our spider-filled victim here."

"O-oh," Vincent's nerves were startled yet again. He avoided Cam's panicked face. "There might be a little something…"

Cam cleared her throat. "Hodgins, save the inappropriate gossip for later and try focusing on the spiders now." Her irritated and stunned expression grew, but she attempted to tone it down as best she could. "Mr. Nigel-Murray, I need to talk to you about...some notes on your performance that Dr. Brennan has passed onto me." She crossed her arms, somewhat protectively, and left the platform waiting for him to follow.

"Y-yes, alright…" Vincent stood up straight and nervously adjusted his tie. Hodgins raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, I could actually use his help right now. Can't Brennan just give him her critiques in person?" He pressed.

Cam turned around on her heel, agitation growing. "Well, we know how Brennan does about, uh, face to face kinds of things." It was a weak excuse and they all knew it.

"P-precisely, and I'm sure Dr. Brennan would express her sentiments in a very cold manner anyhow." Vincent supplied, though it didn't seem to make a dent in Hodgins' suspicion.

* * *

Once Cam had snuck them into a supply closet, her guards came down. "Okay, what do you think you're doing?"

Vincent's face was confused, like a cute puppy. "I'm here to be relayed Dr. Brennan's harsh and cutting critique of my work?"

"No," She was clearly frustrated. "I mean, what are you doing with all those love facts and all of those...flirty looks? Do you want to completely embarrass me?" She knew that she was suppose to try being nicer to him, but that was before he completely flipped her life upside down.

"What am _I_ doing? But you're the one that practically strangled me when you saw those spiders." He took a breath. "It was very cute, but quite painful and fairly obvious."

She blushed. "Granted, that was untoward and unprofessional, but there's nothing going on, that kiss was a mistake. I'm suppose to be your boss."

"Ah, but you kissed me back." He replied with a knowing smile. She couldn't deny how cute and sweet he still was, that hadn't changed with the kiss. Though it had sent quite the rush through her senses, it now now forced her to confront these feelings and what exactly she was to do with them. "If you don't feel anything, fine, I am a grown up contrary to popular belief, but I know you did feel something, and I want to rise to the occasion and be someone you could actually be serious about." He was closer to her now. "And it's not exactly easy with Dr. Brennan continuing to put me down in front of you, a bit debilitating I will admit."

Cam's eyes softened in sympathy and warmth rushed to her cheeks. "You don't need to worry about what Dr. Brennan thinks." Her tone was more gentle now.

"But clearly you agree with her, you think I'm incompetent and that's why you've been avoiding me." The usual glee that filled his cobalt eyes was replaced with a twinge of sadness. "I know I'm just an intern, but I'm a 30-year-old man and I deserve to be taken seriously."

"I don't think you're incompetent, and I don't think Brennan does either." She uncrossed her protective arms. "And I'm not avoiding you because I don't take you seriously, but because I just don't like the idea of everyone knowing that I'm… involved with a coworker, it's unprofessional."

He slowly nodded. "Did you know that office romances occur because the biggest predictor of love is proximity?" They were both blushing now.

"Look, I'm going to talk to Dr. Brennan about her attitude, that might help." She supplied, breaking his gaze and reaching for the door.

Uncharacteristically, Vincent swiftly grabbed Cam's arm and pressed his soft lips to hers. Instead of pushing him off, she let the kiss deepen. He could feel a lurch in his stomach as her hands reached to his shoulders, only pulling him in closer to her. As her back met the wall of the closet, he let his own hands cup her face which only served as another twinge of electricity that added to the hot air between them. Cheeks now flushed, he reached his hand to her hair bun. He let down the long, shiny locks without protest and with a sly smile, twirled a small piece of it in his slender hand.


	5. Discreet

Cheeks still red, lipstick somewhat smudged, and hair free, Cam attempted to straighten her dress as Vincent fussed with his tie and hair. He looked up briefly, eyes meeting hers. He flashed his winning, slightly embarrassed smile at her. "Did you know that the song _Afternoon Delight_ was inspired by the title of a happy hour menu at a restaurant right here in D.C.?"

She made a face. "I am not going to make a habit of this; I refuse to become Angela and Hodgins." She began to gracefully gather her long hair, reprising the very act that captured Vincent's heart in the first place.

"Ah, but we are batting two for two at this point aren't we?" He quipped, straightening his tie. "Or are you still in denial?"

Cam's cheeks flushed at his boldness. "I am undecided..." She said resolutely, focusing on pulling her hair into ponytail as opposed to his slightly sad puppy dog eyes. It obviously wasn't the answer Vincent wanted to hear, but it was the only degree of an answer she was willing to give.

"Anyway," she cleared her throat, trying to diffuse the awkward air that had collected in the small closet. "I did mean what I said about Dr. Brennan's feelings about Zach; her criticism are never very personal, about your work anyway."

Vincent casted his eyes down; when everything Brennan said was critical it was impossible _not_ to take it personal. "Perhaps that's true, but will you still talk to her? It's quite frustrating to know if I'm ever doing anything to her standards." He didn't enjoy setting Cam up like this, but he had grown quite desperate. "I always feel so put down whenever she talks to me."

The sorrowful look on his face struck her. "When you truly impress her, you'll just know, but in the meantime I will try and speak to her." She said with a slight smile that naturally brought a smile to his own face. Returning the full locks to their tight bun, she continued with a stricter tone. "You have lipstick on your chin." A part of her considered attempting to be flirtatious and wiping it off, but another part thought that it would be slightly maternal and would then edge her into full cougar territory.

"You're going to leave ten minutes after I leave, okay?" She clarified matter-of-factly, smoothing back a stray strand of hair.

"Alright, alright." He acknowledged while donning his once neatly pressed, now somewhat wrinkled, lab coat. When she snuck out of the closet and he began to wait for his ten minutes, exactly, he felt a little twinge of something akin to longing. He didn't feel used or even slightly rejected, but there was a strong sense that was now hopelessly vying for validation from two of the most intimidating women in the lab, one after his brain and the other his heart.

* * *

"You can't blame Mr. Nigel-Murray. The knick was on the bone, but I should have realized the implication for the flesh, and I didn't." Cam folded her hands apologetically, as if a subtle plea to Brennan.

"I agree." Brennan retorted, not fully acknowledging the intricacies of an apology as per usual.

This was not going to be easy, Cam thought, with a quick eye roll. She didn't immediately enjoy the idea of fighting Vincent's battles for him, but the look of shame that he got whenever Brennan dismissed him was becoming too crushing for Cam to bear anymore. "Then why are you letting him worry that he's disappointing you?"

Brennan looked pasted Cam for a brief lapse in thought, as if puzzled by the idea of one of her interns being so concerned about disappointing her since they surely didn't have the experience to impress her in the first place. "Mr. Nigel-Murray should be aware by now that I don't hold others to my level of expertise, otherwise I'd have no one to help me."

Cam's eyes narrowed. "How would he know that if you don't tell him?"

Brennan looked somewhat taken aback when Hodgins and Vincent entered Brennan's office. "Tungsten carbide, it's a compound used to coat various types of tools." Hodgins supplied, placing the results on Brennan's desk.

"Including, dental tools." Vincent added, though with a hint of reservation as if he was prepared for another cutting comment from Brennan.

Out of the corner of Brennan's eye, she caught Cam's encouraging, though somewhat intense, glare. She cleared her throat, though avoiding Vincent's eager face. "I distinctly remember saying once: good job, Mr. Nigel-Murray. I am saying it again now."

Regardless of Brennan's unwavering cold tone, Vincent's face immediately brightened in unabashed pride. "B-brilliant, Dr. Brennan. Thank you." He stumbled as if his brain was too exhilarated to form complete sentences. His smile as bright and wide as ever, he briefly glanced at Cam. Seeing him so happy did pull at her heart strings a bit, she couldn't deny that.

"But Mr. Nigel-Murray you do appear to have some, uh, dirt on your chin." Brennan could try to be nice, but she was still as observant as ever.

The shared smiles fell from Cam and Vincent's faces, now sharing glances of worry. "O-oh, yes, um, my bad." Vincent stuttered, wiping away the lipstick with his sleeve. His mode of sheer pride had quickly been replaced by intense nerves as he broke out into a sweat.

"Well! Uh, clearly if the metal Vincent found could belong to dental tools then it's quite possible that the dental hygienist could be the killer." Cam blurted out quickly to, unsuccessfully, push past the awkward moment.

Both Hodgins' and Brennan's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as they swapped perplexing looks at each other and at Vincent and Cam.

"Y-yes, perhaps the hygienist lives in an area where the spiders that we found could inhabit." Vincent fussed with his hands, his evident nerves only worsening the situation.

"Yeah...maybe," Hodgins trailed off, clearly more interested in something other than the spiders.

Even Cam was growing nervous at the looming suspicion that was building in the air, regardless of if Hodgins and Brennan had _actually_ caught on or if it was all in her head. "So we're done?" Cam piped, hopeful.

"Yes, once Hodgins confirms that the hygienist lives in an area native to the spiders Booth and I should have grounds to question her." Brennan said, another feeble attempt at diffusing the awkward tension.

"Great!" Cam said, a bit too excited. She quickly shot Vincent a frustrated look as she strode out of Brennan's office, though he was right behind her which did little to help their case.

"I told you to wipe the lipstick off!" She nearly hissed under her breath as they walked.

"I'm sorry! I simply got too carried away with the anticipation of the cold Dr. Brennan actually expressing legitimate emotion." He tried to coax a smile out of her. "Which was a very impressive and uplifting endeavor, I might add."

"You're welcome." She huffed.

"I'm sure Dr. Hodgins and Dr. Brennan didn't catch on, really it didn't even look like lipstick. However, I don't know if our behavior helped…" He noted somewhat hopefully.

Cam took a sharp intake of breath. She couldn't fathom describing this _thing_ to herself, let alone to her colleagues and friends, not to mention all of the gossip and judgement it might produce. "Perhaps, but Brennan can be much more intuitive than we give her credit for, and Hodgins, jesus, he can pick up on anything."

Sensing her panic, he held up his hands in a comforting gesture. "Meditation is said to improve ones 'sixth sense', and it's common knowledge that Dr. Hodgins and Dr. Brennan detest meditation, so they truly can't be _that_ clever." He paused. "Look, look, I am growing tired of all of this sneaking around. Considering I am on the cusp of catching a murderer and have finally received legitimate praise from Dr. Brennan, I suggest that it would be a worthy occasion for me to take you to a real dinner."

"Oh, do we have plans to go out after we wrap up the case?"

Vincent and Cam stopped in their tracks and came face-to-face with Angela.

"O-oh, Angela," Cam turned, eyes wide in shock. "Y-yes, we were, um, just talking to Dr. Brennan and Hodgins about it."

"Really?" Angela crossed her arms, scrutinizing the bumbling pair with her trademark smirk and eyebrow raise. "Because this is the first I've heard about it and I was just talking to Brennan this morning."

"Did you know that only 2% of the world's population has green eyes!?" Vincent spouted loudly, much to Cam's shagrin.

Angela's eyes narrowed, smirk still on her face. "Man, that's pretty interesting." She replied with a hint of sarcasm as she slowly walked away.

"I'm sure I expertly distracted her!" Vincent whispered, causing another eye roll from Cam. This would not be easy indeed.


	6. Fizz and Pop

**Author's Note: Another long one! Since this is technically a prequel to my story,** _ **Sweet Wine to Vinegar,**_ **I'm going to start including little details (though I have modified things slightly) from that story just to melt your heart a bit. :')**

 **BTW I hope everyone appreciates the new cover. It was a screencap that I found completely by accident and it had me howling, it's so so perfect.**

"You know, it would feel much more like an actual date if we sat at an actual table." Vincent remarked hopefully. He truly wanted to take her on an actual date, regardless of how stubborn she would act about it.

After the case was solved, he had managed to coax her into getting dinner at an Italian-fusion place down the street from the Royal Diner, but only on the condition that he wouldn't insist on paying for her.

"Well, this is not an actual date." Cam replied. "We'd like to sit at the bar, please." She informed the hostess bitterly.

"Oh, but our table settings would be totally romantic for you and your boyfriend." The blonde, somewhat ditzy hostess said with a smile.

"Actually, well, uh…" The b word disoriented Cam. "Just let us sit at the bar, please." She asserted.

The hostess was about to gamely open her mouth again, but Vincent pursed his lips and shook his head at her.

As they sat down, he sat with his chin in his hand and watched her dissect the menu and brush a long strand of hair off her shoulder. He was grateful to be spending any time with her, that was a given. Especially with her hair free of its up-do, the cascading black locks catching the shine from the low lighting of the restaurant. He felt like her dismissal of the hair bun or ponytail was a sincere allowance of trust, as if few men were lucky enough to see the off-work Cam.

She noticed his looking, his eyes glazed over in distraction. "What?"

Thrown out of his lament, he began to blush. "Nothing!" He focused his attention on the menu. "Perhaps we should get drinks."

His numb suggestion was interrupted by an annoyed-looking waitress. "Are you ready to order?" She asked them with a veiled cranky tone.

"Um, I'll have the tortellini and a glass of the merlot." Cam replied hesitantly, the odd nature of actually having dinner with Vincent slowly settling in.

Vincent cleared his throat. "Y-yes, and, um, I'll have the ravioli type-thing and...a gin and tonic, please."

"And separate checks, please." She supplied, barely letting him finish his order. This request only seemed to further annoy the waitress and she responded with a tense "Fine." and left the table.

Frankly, both of them were badly out of practice with the "whole dating thing." Between raising a teenager and graduate school, neither could recall the last time they had been out. This mutual hesitation only managed to make the air even more tense and awkward, as if it wasn't already. Perhaps he could manage to possess some ounce of fliration and confidence in the lab, but this glitzy restaurant was foreign territory. Well, without alcohol maybe.

"Though the quinine content of tonic that was meant to be treated for malaria has been reduced, the drink is still used to relieve leg cramps." Vincent added with his usual expressive hands.

"Why were you so eager to get dinner with me?" Cam pushed past his tidbit, getting to the true matter at hand.

"Well," He drummed his fingers on the bar. Was it not obvious to her? Maybe she thought his kissing her-and her kissing him back-had been some kind of accident or a completely platonic act. And here he thought he was the bumbling, oblivious one. Oh, he truly didn't want to come out and say it. "I truly like you. No hidden motivation, no frivolous acts of sympathy, I just like you." He finished with a hint of a nervous smile.

Cam wasn't sure what answer she had been expecting, but any answer might've surprised her. "Oh," she cast her eyes down. When their drinks arrived—she sipped her wine a bit too quickly—she let the alcohol cloud her speeding thoughts.

Of course she had felt something when he kissed her; she had let her emotional guards down and his forwardness managed to surprise both of them. But she knew she shouldn't be so dazzled by it; she was his boss, she was ten years older, and she didn't even know what to do with these feelings now that they had been dropped in her lap. It was too much to sift through. She had taken her guard down, but she wasn't sure if it could stay down.

He quickly finished his drink as well. "I mean, I...kissed you because you were sad, felt a bit propelled to I suppose." He began trying, to help her sift. "Of course I always thought you were gorgeous and smart and kind; I mean, what man couldn't?" The effects of the gin let that last part slip. "Bar keep! Give me another, please." He called with a slight slur.

Cam made another soft 'hm' sound as they again adjusted to a swarm of the unusual setting. Most men wouldn't typically lay their emotions so bare and it did give her another jolt of shock. When she looked at him, he had donned the same shameful look that he would get with Brennan, the look that completely tore at her heart it was so sad.

The thought of Brennan took her back to their conversation earlier that day. Why hadn't she thought about it before? "How would he know if you don't tell him?" She didn't plant these feelings in his heart to make him sad, she was just...unsure.

Right when she was about to say something, their waitress brought their food. With a sulk, he began to pick at his ravioli. "Don't worry," he hiccuped. "I'll try and eat quickly so that you're no longer stuck on this 'non-date.'"

"No!" Cam said, a bit too loudly. He looked up from his abject sulk in surprise. "T-this is sweet, and I'm glad that you suggested it." She said, cheeks pink.

* * *

Contrary to Cam's fib, the rest of the lab actually did end up going out for drinks at the Founding Fathers, accidentally-on purpose leaving out Cam and Vincent. Naturally, their flurry of gossip developed.

"Booth, I'm telling you, Cam is definitely sleeping with Vincent." Brennan pressed adamantly. "I like to think my time around you has equipped me to better understand subtleties between people." She said with clear pride.

"No, no, no." Booth shook his head. "I know Camille better than any of you guys, and she wouldn't be playing footsie with an intern. She takes her job seriously."

Angela scoffed, sipping her drink. "Why? Just because you two used to 'knock boots'?" Booth frowned.

"Perhaps," Sweets piped at the end of the bar. "You're threatened by the idea that Cam would sleep with someone so much younger and more agile than you, Agent Booth." Booth narrowed his eyes at Sweets and quickly finished his bourbon.

"Fine, if you guys want to engage in lame, stupid gossip, that's your thing." He threw up his hands dismissively.

"It is not 'lame.'" Hodgins threw his ring into the debate. "Angela heard them talking about going to dinner tonight. Well, more like Vincent begging her." He finished with a smirk.

Booth crossed his arms. "I'm sure it wasn't like that." Though it had been a few years since he had last been with Cam, the idea of her sleeping with Vincent did give him a slight twinge of uncomfortableness. "Besides, they're not even right for each other; she's his boss."

"Some men enjoy the being in the submissive role, it can be a real turn on." Sweets cleared his throat nervously. "Um, I mean, so I've heard."

"Ah yes, so you've heard." Angela acknowledged with a smirk. "I think it'd be sweet; while annoying at times-I will admit-I think Vincent could soften her up a bit."

"In more ways than one." Brennan said with a grimace. The wine had edged on her comical side.

"Oh, sweetie," Angela patted Brennan's back. "Good try."

* * *

Cam's comment drove Vincent into pure euphoria-and two more gin and tonics-which ultimately pushed Cam into two glasses of wine.

"Oh, your hair is just sooooo pretty." He pleaded while drinking his glass. "It borders on sheer cruelty-one person should possess such sensual locks."

She laughed. "You're not too bad yourself." Her mind registered that she was getting tipsy, but not to the point of being completely wasted as he was.

"I saw you in the autopsy room when you thought no one was around and-and you were taking down your hair and ohhhh my goodness, it was maddening." He finished his drink, heartily slamming it down. "If I had the nerve I would've just, _oh man_ , right there. But that's for my fantasies." He said with a trill in his voice. Cam was protective of her guards, but he was plowing right through his own.

Eyes wide, more warm blood rushed to her face. Obviously, if he was sober he wouldn't be speaking like this, she reasoned.

He stood up straight, though it was a somewhat feeble attempt considering his current state. "I apologize. I am a proper English gentleman at heart, but some things demand to be felt."

At this point, she was just going to let him blabber until anything substantial or not embarrassing came out.

"Barkeep!" Vincent called. The bartender, clearly annoyed at Vincent's insistence on continuing to call him such, came over to them.

"Would you terribly mind taking a picture of my fine lady friend and I?" He waggled his phone in front of the bartender.

"No no no no, Vincent, we can't." She pulled on his arm, but her laugh betrayed her protest.

"Shshsh," He slurred, tightly taking her hand and placing it atop his own. As he leaned in to kiss her cheek, she erupted in another soft bit of laughter as the phone camera flashed.

* * *

Once they had paid for their meal, Vincent excitedly offered to walk Cam to her condo. Seeing him nearly fall onto the sidewalk as they left the restaurant made her hesitant about him actually making it there. Unsurprisingly, he could not hold his liquor very well.

As they walked, Cam's wine-fueled haze was dissolving while the gin continued to slosh around in Vincent's head. "You know, I can walk home by myself if you need to take a cab…" She proposed.

"No no no," He attempted to stand a bit straighter. "I'm quite alright. A true gentleman would rise past drunken behavior." He truly hadn't anticipated to get so drunk, but he was in desperate need of loosening his nerves. Perhaps he had loosened them too much, though. His effort to come off as a serious, grown man seemed to only work when she was just as drunk.

"Do you feel better about Dr. Brennan now?" She asked. Maybe discussing work wasn't exactly the steamy date talk people other people usually had, but of course they weren't like most people.

"Um," he looked upwards. "I think so. How did you manage that anyhow?" He had been dying to know; the idea of her gallantly defending his honor did stir up a few butterflies in his stomach.

A blush of read appeared on her face, almost matching his drunk-glow. "Well, I just said that it was my fault for not seeing the damage to the flesh before you soaked the bones in the rhubarb, and that Dr. Brennan shouldn't let you feel so bad about yourself." She hadn't thought what she had said to Brennan was that big of a deal, but as she recounted it she realized that she truly wouldn't have stuck her neck out like that for any of the other interns.

Realizing this himself, he softened his eyes and stopped walking. "That was very kind of you, Camille." He said, appearing to shock away any hint of intoxication. "I-I know that not many other people in the lab would've stood up to Dr. Brennan for me."

As their eyes met, he felt that familiar pull that had enticed him all those weeks ago. Her sincerity was evident in every inch of her soft face-the caring eyes, gentle eyebrows, and delicate mouth. It made his nerves fizz and pop, and he wondered absent-mindedly if he could ever made her feel the same.


	7. Bad Idea

Though the air was permeated with alcohol and the intensity of Vincent's eyes on Cam's, she still managed to feel a lightness in her throat when he called her Camille. Booth had always been the only one who called her that, considering the years they had known each other. Vincent was truly more fearless than most people gave him credit for.

"You're welcome." She replied, sincerely, trying to re-orient herself into the conversation. Instead of turning away and hurrying to her nearby condo, she held him there, feeling the pull from his own gentle face.

Vincent felt a lurch in his stomach, though its trigger was far from that of romantic butterflies. He hurled over as if he was going to throw up, emitting a shriek from Cam and instantly killing the romantic air.

While he didn't throw up, the momentum made him lose his already dwindling balance as he fell on the sidewalk with a thunk.

"Oh no no no." She said, mouth agape and panic building. She kneeled to get on a level with him and attempted to hold his face up. "Are you okay?"

He hiccupped. "Did you know that scientists theorize that the reason why we tilt our heads to the right when kissing is because we tilt our heads that direction whilst in the womb?" Even while drunk on the sidewalk, he could manage a factoid.

"How charming, but more importantly we should get you off of the ground." In her heels, she struggled to stabilize him. It was funny, she thought, even when she tried to get out of the lab or out of the house and go on a date she still ultimately ended up becoming the mom-figure. "I'm going to call you a cab; what's your address?"

"Queen Elizabeth's grand line of corgis are descended from a corgi that King George VI gave her for her 18th birthday." His purest state of drunken stupor was becoming a practical faucet of facts.

"Vincent, focus. What is your address?" Face panicked and irritated as she realized what exactly she had gotten herself into, she finally managed to get him to stand upright.

"I am pleading the fifth amendment." He retorted. Her reasonable side wanted to just leave him there at the whim of a cab driver, but the pesky feelings of affection he had dropped on her felt otherwise.

She bit the corner of her lip in thought for a second. She could've called Hodgins or Booth, but absolutely couldn't. Considering the circumstances she couldn't call anyone for risk of a complete embarrassment. It probably wasn't her most reasonable idea, yet it was the best she could muster.

* * *

"If you make a single sound, I'm going to kill you." Cam said under her breath as they stood in the doorway of her place. Considering Michelle had gone to sleep a couple hours ago-or at least Cam hoped she had-the place was completely dark. She struggled to turn on a small lamp by the doorway while also keeping him from falling flat on his face again.

"Oh, I would so relish in your slaying me." Vincent nearly stumbled over the end table by the door as he fruitlessly clung to Cam's arm.

"You are going straight to the couch and are not allowed to do _anything."_

"Ah but there are _so_ many things I want to do, preferably with you." He drew out the "u" sound through his slur as he tried to stabilize his jello-like posture.

She rolled her eyes and put him on the couch, perhaps a bit too forcefully. "We're not doing _that,_ it would not be a very, very bad idea."

Vincent attempted to sit up straighter. "As a man of science, I would claim that it would be a very _good_ idea." A drunken flirtatious smile appeared on his face.

Cam rolled her eyes again. "First, you're extremely, extremely drunk. Second, Michelle is sleeping not 20 feet away, _and_ it's only our first date."

"Ah! Date!" He pointed his finger in a playfully accusatory manner. "The Freudian slip prevails!"

"Shh!" She threw a hand over his mouth. Maybe this had been her worst idea ever.

"Cam?" A voice said from behind her. "What's going on?"

Both turned to look at the confused teenage girl standing in the hallway. Decked in her pajamas, Michelle was rubbing a bit of sleep out of her eyes, but her puzzled expression was still easily visible.

"Uhm...Michelle! Sweetie, I'm so sorry I woke you." Cam said, as if there wasn't a wasted, strange man in their living room.

"Who is...that?" Michelle gestured to Vincent, his head now dropping as sleep tried to claim him.

"H-he's, uh, this is Vincent..." Cam kneaded her hands nervously. The dating talk would be very awkward for her and Michelle, especially when the subject of said talk was not only shy of 30, but also very close to puking on their cream couch.

"Her lover!" Vincent said with a show of enthusiasm, but then slowly began to curl into sleep on the couch. Michelle's eyes widened and eyebrows jumped while Cam shared a similar expression.

"No, no, no, no. We're just coworkers...we were, um," Cam paused as she attempted to pull off his shoes, lest he damage her couch in addition to her trust with her daughter. "All having dinner at the Founding Fathers and, well, Vincent here got very drunk and by the time he was ready to leave no one else was around to take him home and he won't give me his address."

"You're a bad liar." He murmured sleepily while he curled up to Cam like a lazy housecat.

Michelle's look of surprise turned slightly more irritated as she crossed her arms. "If you're going to bring a total drunk into our house, I would at least like a bit of honesty." That was funny, Cam thought, typically she was suppose to be giving the accusatory lecture to Michelle and not the other way around.

Cam's shameful and embarrassed expression made Michelle soften her tone. "If you are dating someone, that's fine and you're allowed to tell me." She added reassuringly.

"He's not...I'm, um, not...we're just," Sitting down on the couch, Cam struggled with the correct respond. "I'm undecided." She really did like that answer.

Michelle came closer, sizing up the languorous British man who had now moved himself to rest his head on Cam's lap. "You know," she tilted her head. "He is very cute—and hopefully he's at least 25–so I don't get why you'd be so 'undecided.'"

Her comment sent a flurry up Cam's face. "T-these things can be complicated; you'll understand it better when you're older." Calming down, she had begun to gently stroke Vincent's hair without even realizing it at first.

"Oh my god, that is such a cop-out." Michelle sat down opposite to Cam. Obviously, Cam had always longed to deepen their mother-daughter relationship, but discussing her messy romantic life was not what she had planned on nor desired. "Just because I'm around doesn't mean you can't just enjoy yourself and date people."

"I am not discussing this with you; I'm the mother and you're the daughter, remember?" Cam retorted. Michelle frowned at this; why did her mother have to be so guarded all of the time?

"Well," Michelle stood up dismissively. "I will not be calling this 'Vincent' dad. And Cam, please make sure to use protection!" She turned around with a playful smirk before she walked down the hallway.

"Michelle!"


	8. Hath No Fury Like a Teenage Girl

**Author's Note: This morning I embarrassingly went to one of those baby morph websites and I "made" the Vincent/Cam baby, Aida, and I almost cried she was so freeeaking cute and precious; I was so so overwhelmed. How am I a young adult when decade-old ships still have me weeping?**

Vincent awoke with the expected pounding of his head, brain recovering from his alcohol-fueled tyraid of love. Sitting up, he surveyed the unfamiliar living room he was in. The fresh white walls, white carpet, and light brown wood floor was chic and clean-more so than his own dinky, dark apartment. As his eyes adjusted to the bright light flooding through the two large windows, he tried to recollect what had taken place last night.

They had figured out who the murder was, and he had successfully wooed Cam into getting dinner at Nolita. And then...the drinking started, he guessed, as that was when his memories became fuzzed at the edges. He could remember yelling at the bartender about something or other, having some heart-wrenching moment in the street with Cam, a cranky teenager, and the feeling of Cam's warm lap.

"Wow, he lives." Cam said from behind the couch.

Vincent quickly turned around to see her standing in the equally chic black kitchen. She was holding two coffee mugs, and had traded her usually tight and stylish outfit for a loose, knit sweater and black pants. Even in pajamas, her soft black hair framing her face, she still managed to make his heart flutter.

"H-hi," He said quietly, sitting up and holding his pounding head. "What happened last night?" Retrospectively, he knew that drinking so much on his "dinner date" was not one of his better ideas, but he had made her so nervous and jumpy he needed to settle himself somehow.

Reaching out one of the mugs to him, Cam perched on the side of the couch. "Well, you got very drunk after dinner and while I wanted to call you a cab, you refused to give me your address." She said, clearly a bit annoyed. "And because I didn't want to hear about a poor, skinny British boy getting mugged or kidnapped on the news, I...took you home. Now, do you have some clothes for work today?" If she wasn't feeling like a mom before, she surely was now.

Vincent groaned. "I mean, I do have some in my locker, but I can't be exempt from photographing evidence just this once?" He pleaded with her and attempted to woo her with his beautiful blues.

"Absolutely not." She laughed, pulling away from his endearing gaze. "I wouldn't let Wendell or Clark off the hook for being hungover, so you don't get a pass either. However, I'm sure they would be more responsible than to get drunk on a work night anyway." Maybe it was unnecessary to add, but she wasn't wrong. Vincent, Fisher, and perhaps Daisy were the more "unpredictable" interns while the rest were actually more reserved and responsible.

"Fun fact; an estimated 9.3% of the U.S. labor force works with a hangover everyday." He gingerly took a sit of the coffee, making a face as it went down. "Perhaps Wendell and Arastoo and Clark are more responsible and thoughtful than I am, but _they_ don't have _you."_ He held her face and kissed her cheek. It was a somewhat odd gesture, but of course, he was an odd person in the most endearing way. "Consider that a thank you for not leaving me on the street to be at the mercy of DC thugs."

As he pulled away, she took a second to consider the goofy smile on his face, somehow unhampered by his hungover state. It managed to be so charming, and she wondered why it had taken her so long to really notice it. "Unfortunately, flattering the boss will not get you an excuse." She smiled as he frowned. "Now come on," Taking his mug, she returned to the kitchen. "I am taking Michelle to school and us to the lab in less than an hour, and you need to at least try and look presentable.

* * *

"Michelle, can you knock it off?" Cam asked from the steering wheel. Michelle was sitting in the passenger seat and kept turning around to glare at Vincent in the backseat; the scrutiny and the flipping of Michelle's hair was seriously getting to Cam.

"How old are you?" Michelle asked, ignoring Cam's plea.

Vincent fumbled with his hand nervously, as if he wasn't exactly sure how old he was. "T-thirty. I'll be thirty-one soon." He cleared his throat; he felt anxious about appealing to Michelle not only for Cam's sake, but to get the intense look off of Michelle's dogged face.

"Hm…" Michelle murmurred, but Vincent couldn't tell if that was an answer she actually liked. "Do you want kids?"

"Michelle!" Cam yelled. "V-vincent, you do not have to pay attention to her." She did want to trust Michelle about her personal life, but god at what cost?

"No, you have to answer." Michelle pressed the nervous hostage.

"W-well, um," Vincent was starting to sweat now. "Did you know that armadillos have four babies at a time and all are of the same gender?" He has never even dreamt of meeting Michelle, but if he ever had he would've never thought it would be quite as scary. Who knew a teenage girl could hold such fury?

Michelle's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What's with all the facts?" She meant to just ask Cam, but obviously it didn't exactly come off as such.

"Be nice, please." Cam begged again while still attempting to keep her eyes in the road and not her daughter's interrogation. "It's his...thing."

"Interesting," Michelle remarked. She didn't detest this stranger in their car, but she did enjoy how nervous she was making him. "So, Vincent, are you like Cam's boyfriend?"

Cam nearly rear-ended the car in front of her. "Michelle, I mean it! Stop right now or you're grounded."

Narrowing her eyes, Michelle shot a look at Cam. "Hm, you're risking yelling at me in front of your charming 'undecided-boyfriend,'" She turned back to Vincent. "That means she likes you."

His cheeks blared bright red. "I-interestingly, all insects have 6 legs." He was about to burst, while Cam was about to burst in sheer irritation.

"Wow, you two are made for eachother; you both love avoiding pressing questions." Cam gave Michelle another look of irritatation. She sighed. "Fine, fine. But I meant what I said about not calling him dad."

Thankfully, they made it to Michelle's school not too long after. Before leaving the car, Michelle gave Cam a stiff hug and made sure to give Vincent one more intense stare.

Once she left, Vincent sheepishly sat in the passenger seat. "She is quite...persistent." He gulped, recounting his intense encounter.

"Y-yes, she is. She's a lot like her dad in that way I guess." Brushing another uncomfortable topic assign, Cam began the drive to the lab. She had expected they would laugh about Michelle and go on about their day, but she had made some interesting points. "She just cares a lot, that's all."

He made a humming sound to register that he had heard her. "Oh, right." He was turned away from her, the whole thing had made them much more uncomfortable than expected. "So, you didn't tell her about...us?" He wasn't sure why he said it, but his poor heart made him feel compelled to.

She glanced at him, a mix of surprise and guilty. "W-we'll, you're really only suppose to tell your kids about these kinds of things if they get serious…" The words stung her a bit, but she had been thrown right back into the emotional taxing "define her feelings" situation. "That's just what I've heard, anyway."

The words stung Vincent too as he cast his eyes downward. After one date, it surely wasn't "serious," but it wasn't casual, at least his feelings weren't casual.

Cam wanted to tell him how complicated her feelings were, considering their workplace relationship, but didn't want to make him feel a reiteration of that crushing feeling Brenna brought upon him. Vincent, on the other hand, felt as if he was bursting with his affections and longed to bridge the gap, but he did not want to push her away.

"And you're sure you have extra clothes in your locker?" Cam pressed as they got out of her car. Whether it was out of concern for his well being or concern for their collective appearance, neither could tell.

"Yes, I do, don't worry. I will make it through the druggery of my shift being well-dressed." He reassured her, but he was clearly deflated. "And I will stay quiet about dinner last night." He knew the next thing she was going to ask, almost before she herself did.

"G-good," Cam supplied, but there was some underlying tone in his voice that was somewhat sad. He had gotten so used to having to shovel aside his affections that he didn't seem to expect anything more from her.


	9. Where There's Smoke

**Author's Note: I'm only now realizing quite how long ago season 5/6 was and oh my goooodness I feel so old, welp.**

During the day, Cam had tried her best to busy herself with various administrative things; whatever she could to keep her attention focused upon anything but her personal life and its various complexities. She had enjoyed having dinner with him; she even found his drunken collapse in her apartment somewhat cute, but when she was thrust back into these domains-motherhood and work-she instantly felt guilty and had an intense need to shield her feelings. Working was her life, being a mom was her life, and she wasn't sure if there could be room for anything else.

In the middle of her descent into deep thought, Brennan walked into her office. "Good morning, Dr. Brennan. How is cataloging the evidence going"

"It's going well, we should be finishing up soon and sending the documents to Caroline." Brennan came closer to Cam's desk. "How was _your_ evening?"

Cam got an odd look on her face. "Oh, it was fine. Nothing much, really." She tried to stay as neutral as possible. This was strange, Brennan rarely took a completely sincere interest in activities outside of work.

"Oh," Furrowing her eyebrows, Brennan looked somewhat surprised at her answer, as if expecting something else. Maybe her newfound social analysis had been a lost cause, she thought. "Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about my time here, at the Jeffersonian?"

Cam turned around in her chair. "What about it?" Suspicion building in her tone.

"Well," Brennan looked somewhat uncomfortable, and it was quite a rare face for her. "Doesn't it get to you? Not death, but the murders. As a coroner, you're used to working with these fresh tragedies, dealing with this real and palpable violence, but I'm not."

Cam took a pause, trying to fully dissect what Brennan was trying to say. "Are you...considering quitting?"

"No, I'm not at that point yet." Brennan pressed. "I am simply considering the implications, emotional and academically, of my profession and plan to evaluate them in a rational manner. Being that you're my supervisor, I thought you should be aware so as to give you the opportunity to make provisions and adjustments."

"Well, Dr. Brennan, we'll definitely miss you," Cam wasn't even sure where to begin she was so taken aback. Taking Brennan out of work was, well, as alien as taking herself out of work. "The work you do is just, so essential to the Jeffersonian. I honestly can't imagine it working without you. Just please talk to me before doing anything sudden, alright?" Cam knew this emotional appeal wouldn't work on Brennan, and furthermore, Brennan would do whatever she pleased whether she wanted to inform Cam or not.

"Thank you, I know that the Jeffersonian would be quite lost without me." Brennan added without a trace of humility. "It just requires so much investment, in Booth and in the victims. I don't think work should demand that much of me."

Cam slowly nodded, taking in the words, but allowing herself to get sidetracked by their greater implications. "I understand…"

Brennan gave a quick nod and left the autopsy room, leaving Cam with another tangle of undecided emotions. If the unfeeling Brennan could manage to put feelings over her rigorous work, then what could that mean for her?

* * *

"Hodgins, chill out." Angela begged as the two of them stood on the fringes of the lab platform.

"What?" Hodgins shrugged his shoulders like a small child. "I simply want to ask Cam if Vincent spouts facts during sex; consider it a feat of scientific investigation." He said with a smirk, clearly enjoying his new found gossip. Yes, they all had sincere respect for Cam and all of that stuff, but at the end of the day she was still their friend who earned a bit of embarrassing gossip once in awhile.

Angela scoffed and raised her eyebrows at him. "That would be a great way to get yourself fired. Actually, she might be so mad at you she'll fire all of us." They considered Cam and Vincent, him photographing evidence and her carefully watching him, with rapt attention. Like the true scientists they were, they waited for any little slip or detail to confirm their bounts of gossip, like pigeons waiting for crumbs.

"Dr. Saroyan, I think I can manage photographing the evidence without supervision." Vincent said somewhat hopelessly, though with a flirtatious, though hesitant, smile. No matter what had happened between them, he still longed to impress her with his independence and striking intelligence.

"After the night you had, I'm not so sure you can, Mr. Nigel-Murray." Cam replied, though quiet enough to evade Angela and Hodgins, with her own subtle smile. The smile struck Vincent, he did really enjoy this, but in the back of his head he did consider what had taken place this morning. It was the looming realization that, perhaps, they weren't feeling the exact same things.

The focused, yet with a tinge of flirtation, air was interrupted by Hodgins draping an arm around Vincent's shoulder. "How's it going over here?" Smirking, Hodgins taunted.

Cam frowned. "Mr. Nigel-Murray _was_ making good progress before he was interrupted." She glared at him with annoyance, a lot she wore far too often with Hodgins

"Y-yes, Dr. Hodgins, I would like to finish up my work." Vincent avoided making eye contact with him, fearing he could still smell the remnants of gin on his breath and sense the longing behind his eyes.

"C'mon, _Cam,_ give the kid a break." Hodgins beamed a winning smile that made Angela laugh.

"It's only 11 AM, I'm sure he's doing fine, Hodgins." Angela supplied with a hearty smile, even though she was suppose to be on his side in this gossip rendezvous.

"I mean, yeah, we all have to take breaks from work sometimes; we do have other needs." Hodgins continued his probing as he narrowed his gaze onto Vincent.

Vincent cleared his throat, nerves rising as this would be his second intense investigation of the morning. "Fun fact, the first record of telling time via sundials was with Egyptian astronomists." He already didn't like where Hodgins' line of questioning was going and wanted to avoid it as much as possible.

"Speaking of needs, anyone fulfilling yours?"

A wall of panic hit Vincent and Cam, though they tried their best to disguise it. Vincent cast his wide, shocked eyes down and away from Hodgins, Cam, or Angela. "If you are referring to whether or not I am seeing anyone, I'm not. N-nobody special, anyway."

Suddenly, a lump developed in Cam's throat. Technically, he had said exactly what she had wanted him to say, but hearing it aloud made her feel somewhat sad, it just didn't feel right to her.

"Oh," Hodgins took his arm off of Vincent, retreating from his flurry. "I mean, that's cool, with graduate school and all I'm sure you're busy." He shrugged at Angela and she made an unimpressed face in return. Their excitable investigation of romance had come up short.

"I guess that's that," Angela said. She loved juicy office romances more than anybody else, but this was getting too uncomfortable, even for her.

"What's...what?" Cam turned to them, arms crossed with skepticism growing in her face.

With perfect timing, Booth came striding up to the platform. "Where's Bones? We've got another case." Flipping through the case file, he was somewhat distracted from the awkward scene that laid before him. "This one's going to be a doozy."

The four of them met him with an awkward, stilted stare. "What's going on _here_?" Booth speculated, parts humor and genuine worry. Hodgins gave a disheveled signed and walked over to Booth, placing a hand on his arm. "Absolutely nothing, apparently." He said under his breath so as not to trigger anymore suspicion.

Angela made an equally disappointed face, only provoking more confusion in Booth. "Your masculinity remains intact, Booth." She gave him a hearty pad on the shoulder as she left the platform, following Hodgins.

"Did I miss something?" Booth asked the equally puzzled Cam and Vincent.

"N-no, absolutely nothing." Cam replied, somewhat fervently to avoid further questioning. Angela and Hodgins were clearly onto something, but how much they knew Cam had no idea. And she had been oh so careful; she really had been.

"Agent Booth!" Vincent piped from his crouched position with his camera. "The mechanics of the camera are very much inspired by the mechanisms of our own vision." Though proud of his tidbit, Booth only supplied him with an expression of confusion and disdain.

"Right…" Booth trailed off. "Does anyone know where Bones is?"

"I think she's around," Cam supplied, recounting her jarring conversation with her earlier in the day. "But can I talk to you about something? I-it's about Dr. Brennan, actually." It wasn't a _complete_ lie, Cam thought to herself.

Booth looked somewhat surprised, this was scaring him a bit as he remembered the subject of the drunken gossip last night from the Founding Fathers. He took a glance at Vincent in all his merriment; surely the stupid gossip wasn't true, right? "Sure."

"S-so I'll just keep photographing?" Vincent asked, but Cam and Booth had already walked off the platform. "Oh, okay, I'll just...yes, quite alright."

Once they were out of earshot, Cam began. "I did talk to Brennan this morning and she said...some interesting things." She had her arms crossed over her chest protectively. She didn't know exactly where she was going with this, but she felt like Booth would be the most sincere and reasonable one to hear her out. "She's feeling unsure about the work she's been doing at the Jeffersonian; she feels like its demanding too much of her."

Booth's brows furrowed. "Bones? No way, she loves what she does and she's good at it." Cam noticed a hint of pink in his cheeks at the mention of Brennan's name; perhaps she was not the only one breathing the strange, amorous air of the lab.

"Of course, that's what I told her, but," She paused and grasped at her chin in thought. "If someone like Brennan, a person who brings so much intensity to her work that she often forgets to eat or sleep, can step away from that then what does that say about the work we do? It was, frankly, very strange to hear."

He looked at her somewhat worried, but still open to her concern. "I mean, we do extremely important stuff here. You guys with your gadgets and gizmos might not realize it, but when you're out in the field you really _get it_ , you know? What is this really about, Camille?"

"I-I mean I'm concerned about losing Brennan, of course, and I'm sure you would be too." She sighed. "You've known me a long time, Seeley; am I one of those women that's practically married to her work, completely oblivious of anything else?"

Taking in the absurdity of her comment, he scoffed. "No way," he began. "For one thing, you've also worked very hard to get to your position, that kinda accomplishment requires guts and a lot of hard work. But you also have Michelle whom you love very much, so clearly you can care about other things. Sure it's not easy to draw your focus away from work, but we all have to struggle with that."

Still walking, Cam nodded. Having these feelings for Vincent didn't make her bad at her job, and refuting the feelings didn't make her any better at her job. Maybe, it was time to make provisions for someone else, namely herself.

 **Author's note: In all of my stories, Booth is basically Special Agent of Emotional Exposition lmao.**

 **Working with at least two more chapters; thank you to everyone who has continued reading! I appreciate it so so much!**


	10. Role-Defying Closeness

Cam was compelled by a weird energy; it was like her guilt had transformed into something peculiar. She wasn't even sure how she got to Vincent's apartment. She might've found his address in his file, she might've gotten into her car and driven there, but it was like someone else had been doing it. Someone else also compelled her to curl her hair, slip on her least intimidating shoes, and picked out her best "I'm-sorry-don't-hate-me" dress.

She rapped on the door, quickly so as not to give her a chance to hesitate. When he opened the door, her heart lept when she saw him peek his head from behind the wooden door.

"Cam…!" He sputtered, clearly taken aback by the sudden appearance of the stunning woman in his hallway. With her dazzling finery and his dressed down look—sweatpants and a Jimmy Page t-shirt—they did look like quite the odd pair indeed.

"I...need to talk to you about something." The words came out almost like vomit; she was really doing this, wasn't she?

"Oh!" He said, his own nerves bubbling. He gestured for her to come inside, but it was crinkled with slight embarrassment, though, as he considered his dingy apartment compared to her clean, adult one. "Please, sit down anywhere." He meagerly pointed to the worn grey couch as he tried to contain his jumpy nature.

The apartment wasn't the greatest, but a part of Cam did find it charming. There was a small, closed off kitchen towards the back, a quaint living room, and three doors that probably lead to bedrooms and a bathroom.

Seeing her, tight navy dress and all, seated in his apartment did make him feel odd. It concerned him—had Angela and Hodgins been onto something? Did Michelle refuse Cam to ever see him again? Or was she firing him once and for all? "W-would you like me to get you something?"

Cam considered coffee as opposed to more alcohol, but she realized it might make her even more nervous. "Tea?" She piped hopefully. He nodded, lingering at the doorway with small smile.

With butterflies furiously building in his stomach, Vincent returned with two cups of tea. "Thanks," Cam replied, somewhat sheepishly as she stared into the cup for some type of solace as she wasn't exactly sure what she wanted to try and say to him.

Vincent fidgeted with his hands since he wasn't completely sure what to do with them; he wasn't completely sure what to do at all. "Fun fact; the tea bag was actually invented by accident. A merchant placed his tea leaves in small, silk bags and customers thought it acted as a metal infuser." He explained with his typical glimmer.

"You know," Cam sipped her tea with a smile painted along her nude lips. "That's actually pretty interesting."

He smiled back and attempted to relax himself in the couch even though his heart was pounding in his throat.

"L-look, I'm not trying to pull some desperate, crazy girl act here, showing up completely unannounced like this." Cam took a breath, forcing herself to meet Vincent's sympathetic, soft eyes.

"No, no, it's not crazy in the least. I feel slightly underdressed, but I am a little nervous…" He said tentatively.

"Oh, no, please don't be nervous." She reassured him, with a gesture of her palms. "Brennan was telling me that she's considering leave the Jeffersonian, for awhile at least, and it's made me...reconsider somethings. I've just been thinking that maybe I've been too paranoid about my work lately. Maybe, I shouldn't be letting my pride at work control everything else, you know? Do you...know what I'm trying to say?"

His cheeks blazed at this. "N-no, I can't say that I do…" He drank his tea so quickly, as a distraction, that he nearly burned his tongue.

"I think that I might've been having difficulty separating work from...this." Oh god, she really felt like she was going to puke. "But I really shouldn't have to, our jobs at the Jeffersonian are important, but it shouldn't demand so much investment. I should still allow myself to be happy." Reiterating what Brennan had said gave her some degree of confidence.

Vincent nodded, drinking the tea slower now, but cheeks still radiating heat. There was a plea in the back of her eyes, he could see that now. It was an expression of the fact that she hadn't come here with full confidence and assurance; it was some kind of risk for the both of them.

He now found himself lost in those eyes, transfixed as he often was when he saw her. "I-I mean, that's right, you can't let work dictate everything, to keep you from wanting to be with me..." He trailed off, unaware of the thing pushing him towards this unseen shore and closer to her face.

The kiss was gentle and sweet; all of of the other times they had kissed were veiled with a twinge of awkwardness and resistance, but now it felt actually right. He didn't feel the hesitation anymore; the daming feeling of guilt and shame had evaporated.

Their polite positions on the couch now turned inward, cups of tea shoved aside, as they continued the kissing and continued the push past polite boundaries. Against her better, more restrained judgment, he laid her down on the couch and she felt his soft hand against her face. As their heat and feelings mixed, he briefly pulled away. "Are you sure, though? I-I mean I don't want you to be with me out simply feeling guilty for me." He didn't want to completely be at the whim of these amorous feelings, not yet at least.

Cheeks flushed, she looked up at him. "N-no, it's not guilt." She tried to re-orient her brain against the passionate frenzy, but was thrown off by his gaze and warm breath. "It's more than that to me. But are _you_ sure?" Normally she might've wanted to shy away from such a question and hide such a statement, but she felt so compelled by his closeness.

He waited for a moment to consider her and this situation. She was propping herself on her elbows, in his strange apartment, lipstick smudged, cheeks flushed, and with _that_ look. He had, admittedly, thought about this, but could never imagine it actually coming to fruition. He could've never dreamt of her being so sincere, apologetic, and comforting nor the image of her practically sinking into the grey upholstery with every caress and kiss. His eyebrows joined as he tried to keep his boyish smile off of his face. "Oh, I'm _quite_ sure." He leaned back down while her arms gracefully draped behind his neck.

One of his hands gingerly felt the curve of her waist and the softness of her chest while subconsciously waiting for her to push him away, even now. But she didn't; instead her own hands crept underneath his t-shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin. The delicate touch cause a stirring in the back of his head that only pushed his desire forward as he pressed his body closer to her's. He managed to wiggle out of his shirt triggering a soft laugh from both of them.

She allowed her shoes to fall off of her feet, making a dull clanking noise against the wood floor. While his hands were tangled in her hair, she scooted closer to him in order to slip off his sweatpants. In response, he clumsily fumbled with the zipper on the back of her dress and swiftly pulled it off and onto the floor. A light whimper escaped his throat as he considered her soft skin against his and the few remaining boundaries coming down around them. Neither had really intended this, their initial attraction nor how far they were allowing themselves to go right now, but the building heat was a kind of intense catalyst.

With a twinge in his muscles, he tripped out of his briefs and she pulled him in closer. In an instant, all of the guards, rules, and hesitation completely fell away.

* * *

Cam rested her head on Vincent's chest, taking in the delicate smell of sweat and the few sprinkles of hair on his smooth chest as she considered this new shift in reality.

Even though they could barely fit on the couch, he still held her as he revelled in their closeness, their role-defying closeness, both physical and emotional.

"Well," He began with a smile. "That was... _electrifying."_

There was a small part of her brain that prompted her to claim that maybe it was a mistake, they had taken it too far now. Her feelings felt too serious and too exposed. She hasn't gotten all dressed up to mount a seduction, but it just sort of happened. This idea nagged at her more than him, considering she was much more cautious and reasonable than he. But instead, she allowed herself to laugh at his unadulterated glee. " I guess you could call it that." Sitting up, she attempted to manage and untangle her once perfectly curled hair.

"Did you know that the term 'testify' stems from a time where men swore on their testicles as a means of honesty?" He coined at he put his briefs back on.

"Wow, you really do know how to ruin a mood." She added playfully while putting on her underwear and dress. This was interesting, their ability to maintain the light banter even after such an encounter.

"I try," he said with a smirk as he helped her zip up her dress. "You know, you're more than welcome to actually stay over. My bed may be small, but I do make a mean eggs and bacon in the morning."

She made a nervous, soft laugh. "Well, as impressive as that sounds, I'm sure Michelle would get very worried if I wasn't at home in the morning."

"Ah, yes, but the night is still young." He supplied while donning his sweatpants and t-shirt. Standing up to face her, he placed his slender hands on her waist. He wasn't wrong, it was only midnight and she really did have to work on being more impulsive. "We can have a late dinner-thing, and I promise not to touch a drip of the devil's brew." This time around, he didn't want to miss anything.

"Okay," Cam smiled, caving into the boyish charm. Maybe, she thought, none of this had to be a mistake.

 **Author's Note: Two or three more chapters left! Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this fic, I really do appreciate it. :)**


	11. Vomit in My Shoes

**Author's Note: Sorry this one is so long! Just so much I wanted to squeeze in ahh.**

With the new air settling around them as they entered the diner, Vincent and Cam somewhat awkwardly found a table as opposed to the bar, to his delight. Sitting down, he simply couldn't contain the goofy smile on his face as he admired her glow underneath the dingy diner lights. This was nice; this was what he always wanted.

Noticing his beaming gaze, Cam laughed. "Oh what it is, lover boy?" She said, jokingly, as the strange reality began to relax.

"Oh, nothing. Simply admiring the ease, you could say." He was right, there was a new calm and stability between them now. "Fun fact; a woman's heart typically beats faster than a man's." He quipped with a proud smile. Granted, there remained some semblance of weirdness but it no longer demanded to be felt.

Once they had ordered their food from a very tired looking waitress, Cam allowed herself to soak in the ease as well, placing her elbows on the table and just considering his face. The pretty eyes, soft chin, light dusting of facial hair. Then there was just him as a person; his unabashed compassion and sincerity, qualities she had never intended to stake out and find.

"So," He began, realizing how silly it would be to just stare at each other for the entirety of the meal. "Could Dr. Brennan really consider quitting? It seems unfair, nay cruel, to deny the Jeffersonian and the FBI such an asset."

"Absolutely, I can't even begin to consider how I would run the place without her. But, she's allowed to do whatever she pleases, regardless of how it affects me or anyone else. She's not exactly a fan of considering those things." She looked passed him, recalling Brennan's lament on the investment of work, sentiments that ultimately pushed Cam into this evening in the first place. "She has her reasons, though."

"May I ask if you know what will happen to the internship program?" He asked tentatively as their food arrived.

Cam sighed. "I'm not entirely sure; the replacement forensic anthropologist would have to be willing to advise you or the management of the program would fall under someone else in the lab." She had thought to mention that the program might not even continue to run under Dr. Brennan, but she didn't want to spoil his elated mood.

"I'm sure Dr. Brennan would not abandon us interns without making provisions for us; I like to think she cares about our well-beings. But, it would be quite fun to have say, Dr. Hodgins managing the program, he would make a _terrific_ advisor." He said with a smile, taking a sip of his chowder. "Gosh, I do wonder how Hodgins will react when we tell him.

"Tell Hodgins...what?" Cam paused from taking a bit of her sandwich with her face void of any recognition.

Vincent's mouth was pursed and his eyes both puzzled and wide with surprise. He felt a lump building in his throat as he registered the placid look she was giving him. "About...us?"

"Oh," she cast her eyes down as her stomach dropped. Somehow, she was feeling worse than she had felt at his apartment. "I-I think you misunderstood me…"

His elbow was on the table, trying to support his woozy head.

"Being...together does not mean that we can tell people at work." Her hands were in her lap now as her body language became more guarded. "It's a whole thing; it's not easy with my being your boss and you being an intern, especially when you're competing with other students." There was a plea in her tone as his eyebrows joined in evident sadness.

"If any of the other interns or anyone else at the lab thought I was giving you preferential treatment because of our personal lives it could be very bad for both of our reputations. If managing the program did fall to me if Dr. Brennan leaves, that would be even worse. My job is already a struggle, and adding this to the mix could only make it worse." She felt her throat constrict as soon as the phrasing left her mouth. "N-not to say you're embarrassing, or anything!"

Vincent was avoiding her eyes now, looking into his soup for some kind of aid or advice as he felt all his magic being struck out of him. "I-I understand," He swallowed hard. "It would feel selfish to force you to sacrifice your reputation."

What he was saying was true, but neither one of them completely believed it. She uncharacteristically reached over the table and held his hand. "Look," she began. "This doesn't change anything, it really doesn't."

He truly didn't have the heart to fight her on this. Yes, she was more cautious and mature but his feelings weren't strict enough to adhere to that. He had certainly considered someone like Daisy or Clark seizing any opportunity to get him fired or penalized, but now that he had uncovered this wealth of intimacy and closeness he felt much less bothered by thoughts like that.

Not wanting to further strain or hurt her, he met her eyes with a smile. "It's quite alright, you don't have to apologize for anything." He said, happily, as an attempt to mask his deflated nature. He had felt like she had truly given her all, but maybe it was only what she had been willing to give.

* * *

The following weeks felt like a hotbed of complications, in and outside the lab. Once Cam and Vincent sorted out their mess, somewhat, it seemed like everyone around them was just dying to make a complete wreck of everything. else As Brennan developed her plans to leave the Jeffersonian, she had been approached to head a dig on the Maluku islands to which Daisy, of course, excitedly agreed to apply to. Feeling detached from Brennan, Booth had decided to take on a position training soldiers in Afghanistan. The final-and the biggest-disruption came when Angela and Hodgins revealed that they had secretly gotten married and were taking a indefinite honeymoon to Paris. And as Cam suspected, once Brennan filed her sabbatical from the Jeffersonian the intern program practically fell apart which only left the Jeffersonian in utter disrepair and, naturally, Cam fully embodied the stress of its downfall.

It was all very complicated for her. Yes, her greatest friends were embarking on journeys for love, discovery, and patriotism, but it still left her in DC with mere crumbs; that had to count for something, right?

Vincent had been handling the dismantling of the program well, but considering his consistent perkiness Cam truly couldn't be sure of exactly how he felt.

She considered him and all of his mysterious layers as she, reluctantly, drove them to the Founding Fathers. Unaware of the awkwardness surrounding these various departures, Angela had gamely organized a going away party before they jetted off to their respective adventures in the following days.

"I love, love Angela, but does she really need to do this?" Cam said somewhat bitterly. If Vincent was going to risk their cover by asking for a ride, he would have to pay for it in being a fully attentive listener to her complaints.

"Well, falling in love is said to share the neurochemical effects of cocaine, so perhaps this party is simply an unreasoned manifestation of her love-fueled high." He supplied. "Speaking of which, considering the fact that the team is disbanded until further notice, don't you think this would be an apt time to finally spill the beans, so to say?" This was dangerous territory, and he knew this.

She turned to him in surprise, but trying to stay focused on the road. Between now and that night at the diner, the circumstances of their relationship had changed. They had more of a kaydence now and everything they did felt closer and deeper; every touch that more dazzling, every dinner date more thrilling, every sleepover more shockingly intimate. They had certainly compromised; she allowed herself to do things a legitimate girlfriend would do, and he allowed himself to to be more accepting, but there was still that one thing.

"I'm not like you. I need the validation, the reassurance from those around me and having to hide the most important thing in my life from them is...it's maddening." He said in an attempt to sound convincing. That night at the diner he had told her he was okay with it, because he ultimately thought he would be and ,of course, because he was already starting to fall for her.

"How does telling people change anything?"

"I-It just does! If not now, then when will we ever tell them?" He was letting it get away from him now-he could see that-but he had let this conflict fester and build under the pressure of their relationship for too long now. The constant, budding shame made her love seem like something he had to demand, as oppose to something she eagerly gave.

"I…" Cam's eyes were fixated on the road now, trying to find a parking spot. "I'm not talking about this right before the party; I'm not going to make it anymore of a complicated wreck than it is already."

Vincent's face fell, that wasn't what he wanted to hear, of course. He sank deep into the car seat as she attempted to catch his eye. His arms were crossed, now he was the one guarding his body. "I'll wait ten minutes before getting out of the car, don't worry."

Her face was hurt, but she was just being honest. "I'm not embarrassed by you or anything, there is just so much happening right now. And none of this changes how I feel about you…" she reiterated, but he was locked into his stew of frustration.

Retreating her offering, she left the car and tried to get her breathing in check before entering the bar. Putting on her best act, she cheerfully greeted their assembled group with their drinks already flowing. Exactly ten minutes later, Vincent entered the bar and put on his best act too, their winning charade of greeting each other as if they had not just had a fight.

Perhaps all those weeks ago, their friends would've flocked with scepulation at their interactions, but they had all gotten so busy with their shared splendors to care about flimsy office gossip. A part of Cam even wondered if they would even care if she really spilled their beans.

As the party continued with various toasts to marriage, missing links to human evolution, and America they were all slightly tipsy. Vincent was, as expected, moreso than the rest but Cam attempted to keep her concern light so as not to cause suspicion.

"Are you okay, buddy?" Sweets asked Vincent while he downed his fifth shot.

"Yes! I am perfectly terrrrrific!" He exclaimed and wrapped an arm around Sweets. "Fun fact: only female mosquitoes bite you. Isn't that amazing, Sweets? The fierce, emotionally guarded females will hurt you the most."

Cam tried to hide her eye roll, but it was hard as her own brain became fuzzy by the wine. Naturally, she would feel obligated to get him cleaned up and taken home considering she had put him in such distress in the first place.

"Calm down, Vince." Hodgins said, reaching over to his friend. "Try not to put too much of a damper on our nuptials."

Vincent hiccuped. "My bad, Dr. Hodgins, but did you know that the average bed contains over 6 billion dust mites?" He spouted excitedly. He knew he was probably embarrassing and worrying Cam at this point, but the selfish and hurt part of him only furthered the behavior.

Angela's eyebrows raised. "Wow, you know _just_ the right things to say. I truly couldn't have gone on with my life without knowing that."

"I'm sure Mr. Nigel-Murray simply can't contain his excitement over your wedding—" Brennan began.

"And about the potential of our findings in Maluku!" Daisy added, resulting in an exchange of awkward glances.

"Yes...anyhow, I'm sure he is simply expressing the excess of his joy through a copious consumption of alcohol." Brennan finished resolutely.

"He just knows how to have fun, Bones!" Booth said with a smirk.

"Actually," Vincent slurred. "I think it is quite rude of you all to leave Cam for your grand adventures. She feels hurt and abandoned."

Their assembled group grew silent as Vincent continued his drunken ramblings. "But of course, I'm not enough for her. I never shall be, I suppose." He finished the drink while completely oblivious of the gaping mouths and shocked expressions on his friends faces.

Cam's throat grew hoarse as the wide eyes that were on Vincent slowly crept to her. In a fit, she left the bar, not even bothering to meet her friend's expressions of disbelief.

Seeing her leave jolted Vincent out of his languorous position as he shouted at her, following her outside.

"Camille! Please! I'm sorry!" He tried not to trip on himself as he followed her. "I-I just don't think it's right that they're abandoning you like this."

Cam turned around with a fierce wip of her ponytail. "Then let me tell them that myself! Do you have any idea how that made me feel?"

He threw up in hands in frustration. "Well," he paused. "Do you have any idea how it makes _me_ feel when I you feel this need to hide me from everyone? Like I'm this shameful thing?"

Her cheeks were red, both from the drinking and the growing upset. "I told you that my not wanting to tell didn't mean anything." She wasn't being completely honest, and they both knew. There remained that one piece of her still devoted to her work. "That night was still a big deal for me, allowing myself to be with you was a big deal and an important decision. And why didn't you ever say anything before?"

There was a glaze developing behind his eyes as some version of tears. "I didn't say anything because I thought I was falling for you; I thought you were being sincere." He ran a hand through his hair as he felt his chest tightening in frustration. "You know what, _Camille,_ you don't have to take the time to fire me after this because I'm _quitting_! I am going on Jeopardy and I'll win so much money and I'll travel to maybe Malaysia or China or Thailand and I'm going to find a woman who will _actually_ likes me enough to tell her flipping friends!" It was mean, and it wasn't true.

"O-oh, really?" His hysteria was quickly turning into her anger. "Well, maybe I'm too mature to be playing hide the pipet in the supply closet with a teenager! I already have one child, and I definitely don't need another." It was mean, and it wasn't true.

By now, their argument had drawn out most of the bar patrons, including their friends. Noticing them and their looks of shock, Vincent stretched out his arms to further his exclamation. "Are you in awe of our clever trick? Dr. Camille Saroyan was shagging an intern behind _everyone's_ back!" He yelled. "And I LOVED it!"

Cam rubbed her forehead in frustration, this evening quite possibly couldn't get any worse. As Vincent turned back to her, his face was tired and his eyes were sad, but she didn't know what she could say anymore. Suddenly, he felt his stomach lurch, but this time vomit actually came out and expelled onto her shoes.

"You...are such a child!" She was yelling now. This had all been such a mistake; the free, comforting Cam who had offered solace on the catwalk all those months ago was irritated, and maybe even a bit heart broken.

"At least I'm honest about my unwavering affection!" He shouted as he hurled again, but blessedly on the sidewalk now. Hodgins and Booth finally swooped in, breaking from their hypnosis from shock.

"Alright, Vincent, we're gonna get you home." Booth attempted to prop Vincent up while trying to keep his confused glances at Cam to a minimum. "Do you have his address, Camille?"

Cam had her arms crossed and was staring at the ground. "Y-yes." she stifled at she got out her phone to text it to him.

"I'm sure he's going to be okay." Hodgins supplied as Booth practically dropped their drunken friend on him, much to Hodgins' upset.

Booth placed a friendly hand on Cam's shoulder. "Are you sure that you're doing okay?"

"Seeley, it's puke, I've been around a lot worse."

"No," he was looking at her more seriously now. "About everything. With us leaving, and now...this stuff." He acknowledged with a clumsy hand to Vincent.

She allowed herself to look at Vincent now; he was drooping in Hodgins' arms now like a piece of jello, and she found her emotions a mix of guilt and anger. Anger over the embarrassment, the vomit, and his verbal attacks, but guilty that she had still let work control her even though she believed it didn't anymore, or at least _wanted_ to believe that.

"It's not a big deal," She said dismissively as an attempt to keep things light. She turned away and was met by sympathetic looks from Angela and Brennan, napkins in hand. Sitting on the steps to the bar, they helped Cam clean the vomit off of her shoes as they watched Booth, Hodgins, and Vincent stow away into a cab.

"What happened to Daisy and Sweets?" Cam asked.

"Well," Angela began, tossing away a soiled tissue. "Your little argument managed to trigger Daisy and Sweets' own drama with her leaving and all, so they left since Sweets 'did not want to contribute to an avalanche of emotional distress.' And speaking of which…" Her expression grew more quizzical. "When exactly were you planning on telling us about your own little romantic tryst?"

"Actually, I would like to acknowledge that I was the first to suspect of your romantic relationship with Mr. Nigel-Murray. The instinctive manner in which you grabbed his arm when we found the spiders in the clay suggested that you naturally viewed him as a figure of protection and comfort." Brennan added, causing Cam's face to flush.

"Oh, god. So everyone already knew?" Cam let her head fall to her hands in frustration. "I can't even manage to hide a relationship, let alone be in one."

"It's not a competition, Brennan, but we did pick up on it a little." Angela smirked. "But we were waiting for you to spill the dirt yourself."

"Angela, she couldn't have, she's Vincent's boss."

"Yes, thank you, Dr. Brennan." Cam approved. "I wanted to be more forthcoming, but as his boss I could've gotten into legitimate trouble or difficult situations and at the time it was too big of a risk."

"But, isn't that kind of the point?" Angela postulated as she stretched out her legs on the stairs, looking up at the stars "For me, anyway, love is always about the risk, y'know? You're giving so much to this person, and you can't exactly know what they're going to do with it, but you go along with it anyway."

"But Angela, that frame of thinking completely goes against our Darwinian instincts to protect ourselves and our best interests." Brennan argued which prompted an exhausted, yet sympathetic, eye roll from Angela.

"I'm too willful for that, anyway." Cam sighed as she felt her eyes become teary. "If I managed to get fired, I'm sure I would've resented him or something which would've been awful, but clearly that doesn't matter now. I have no job, no FBI agent, no forensic anthropologist, no entomologist, no artist-computer scientist extraordinaire, no him, and vomit in my shoes."


	12. Heartbreak for 500

**Author's Note: Takes place during season 6, The Babe in the Bar. Enjoy!**

"Camille? Can you please pick up? No...okay. Look, it was the hooch! I'll buy you new shoes. I promise. I didn't mean what I said; I shouldn't have been so-" _Beep._

"Fine! I know you're ignoring me, but y-you know I'm going to go sign up for Jeopardy anyway! When I become a zillionare you'll be sorry. By the way, this is drunk. I-I mean this is Vincent." _Beep._

"H-Hi, Camille. I'm sorry for my other message...I truly am. I'm sure you won't listen to this, but I'm about to go on the Jeopardy and I simply wanted you to know that I'm thinking-" _Beep._

"I'm not sure if you happened to see me on Jeopardy—I guess you didn't—but I just wanted to let you know that I'm about to get on a plane to Thailand and I just wish that-" _Beep._

"I loved you _so_ much; I loved your hair and your smile and I _loved_ making love to you but you just crushed my heart in the middle of the street! But I have slept with many, _many_ women so I don't care! I-I think that the booze in Thailand might be a lot stronger than American booze-" _Beep._

"W-well I lost my phone in Thailand for a few months, but now that I am back in the U.S. Dr. Brennan has asked me to come back to work at the Jeffersonian since everything has worked itself out...I just wanted to let you know that-" _Beep._

Over the past few months, Cam's anger had been festering. It built with every voicemail she received from Vincent, though she had ignored all of them out of regret and shame. A part of her had hoped that if she simply ignored his messages, he would just go away and somehow never enter her mind again. But now, the morning before he was set to return, she was sitting in her car and was finally listening to the them. She still could not handle them in their entirety quite yet.

Her mind briefly settled on that day when he kissed her in all the swirling thrill and surprise. She could also remember how regretful and stupid she felt, though it was nothing compared to how she was feeling now. Yes, she could've given more to him, _really_ gone all the way, but no one could ask her to fully sacrifice her job. Principles and emotional guards, sure, but not work. Furthermore, to have all of that sacrifice thrown in her face—and on her shoes—in front of her friends had truly hurt her, and a simply voicemail couldn't change that.

Suddenly, her phone rang and it made her jump. Oh god, was it him? No, it was Booth.

"Hey Camille. You're probably already at the lab, but I'm gonna need you to come down to a crime scene. It's some crazy stuff; a body was found inside of some huge-ass chocolate bar. Was being cut open right in front of a bunch of kids, and it's _quite_ meaty."

"Wow, how appetizing." Cam sighed in frustration. "Just send me the location and I'll put it into my GPS."

"Will do. You shouldn't waste any time , though, Bones is already getting jumpy over the flesh." He paused, tone changing. "Vincent's coming back today, did she tell you that?"

"Yes, she did. I also found out through Vincent's dozen or so voicemails…" She added bitterly. She still hated the idea of everyone being aware of her romantic goings on, especially since it was someone they all knew.

"Want me to sock that heartbreaker in the nose for ya?"

"No no no, please don't, Seeley." she pressed. "You'd probably break him in half."

* * *

Vincent could feel his heart lurch and his nerves electrify the minute he saw Cam stride up onto the platform. He longed to just collapse on his knees and beg for her forgiveness, express how truly awful he felt, but he could quickly pick up on her tense mood.

Cam, too, felt the surge of emotions when she saw his strong, cobalt blue eyes, but their warmth wasn't strong enough to wrench her back into any amicable feelings.

"T-the new styling of your bangs suits you, _Dr. Saroyan."_ He complimented her as smoothly as he could manage, though with a note of apprehension.

Being reminded of their old ways, she felt her throat ache but she still tried to maintain a convincing look of irritation. "Mr. Nigel-Murray, please stay focused on the case. Dr. Brennan does not have to keep you on as an intern if she believes that you don't care enough about your work." Coldy, she began sorting the melted chocolate.

Just then, Brennan entered the platform and gingerly sized up the awkward tension. "Oh, hello, Dr. Brennan." Cam greeted, but a part of her cringed inwardly. Though Brennan was now fully aware of the situation, Cam still didn't want her to pick up on the idea that she was actually upset. She was still supposed to be the figure of authority and all.

"Ah, Dr. Brennan, g-good morning." Vincent stifled. "You know, it was widely rumored that Pope Clement XIV was killed with a cup of poisoned chocolate." He threw a proud smile at Cam, trying desperately to get some semblance of approval or warm, or just anything really.

"Was he a good pope or a bad pope?" Cam acknowledged, but still keeping her eyes fixated on the sifting so as not to _completely_ appease him.

He felt his body jolt, as if coming back to life. "He was no Urban VI."

Maybe playing this act wasn't going to be as simple as she thought as she felt her patience dwindling and quickly being replaced by the oh-so familiar annoyance. "Oh, no...of course not."

"Oh!" He continued excitedly, still stealing side glances at Cam. "Who, by the way, was the answer to my record-breaking Daily Double win on Jeopardy. The category, of course, torture." He remembered when he was dying for Dr. Brennan's approval, now it was completely focused on Cam.

"Was that the game that you played while I was away?" Brennan asked with a bitter tone.

"It was more than just a game; Mr. Nigel-Murray won almost a million dollars." Cam said from her sifting. "I-I mean, so I heard. I didn't watch it." She clarified. Michelle restraining her to the couch and forcing her to watch it didn't actually qualify as watching or so she wanted to believe.

"Which after travel, an overindulgent lifestyle, the occasional game of chance," he tried to look over at Cam for this part. "A little stint in rehab, I no longer possess. But I still have my memories!" It wasn't exactly the best point to woo Cam with, but a part of him hoped it would matter to her. "And oh, _Thailand_." He said with a flourish which triggered a bizarre look from Cam. Great, she not only got to be annoyed by her delicate heart but constantly reminded of what wild and crazy-and probably sexual-goings on he had while away just to truly complete the picture.

Brennan, equally annoyed but for completely different reasons, tried to shift back to the case. "Reassembling the chocolate made it easier to scan, but the condition of the chocolate is still less than ideal."

"Holy crap." Angela entered the platform, floored by the imposing scanner. "Why is it so cold in here?"

"We have to make sure no chocolate melts during the CT scan, it's actually on loan from Johns Hopkins." Brennan supplied.

Cam's attention perked from its previously dampened state. "Johns Hopkins! Almost forgot that. Another one for Michelle's shortlist." She said excitedly. Maybe she was a lackluster girlfriend and boss, but she would be damned if she wasn't a competent mother.

"I can't believe she's already applying to colleges! Does she know what she wants to study?" Angela acknowledged.

"Oh, she's kinda all over the place, you know how it is." Cam said with a wave of her hand. "She's actually gonna be here in a few minutes so we can go over our application strategies."

Angela raised an eyebrow. "Do you mean her application strategies?"

Cam paused, wide eyed. "Didn't I say that?" Well, she was at least trying her best to be competent mother.

As she turned to go, Vincent spoke up. Having met Michelle a grand total of once, he felt obligated to offer some insight; that and he wanted to hold Cam's attention as long as he could. "Oh! You know, there are many fine universities in England. Oxford and Cambridge of course but there's-"

Did he _really_ think he had cause to say _anything_ about Michelle after a hungover interrogation in her car? Did he really think he had cause to say anything to her _at all_? Did he have any idea of crushing his _mere_ presence was to her?

Cam didn't ask these things, and they only added to the mounting tension in her face. "You so as much mention leaving the country to _my_ daughter, and I will choke you on your own trivia and stuff your lifeless body in a locker." With a smile gleaming in pure irritation, she quickly turned away.

Well, Vincent thought, maybe he hadn't managed to impress her. "On the other hand, Georgetown is quite lovely..." His blue eyes cast down in their sad-puppy manner as he felt his throat constrict. It felt like every muscle was tense yet numb at the same time. He knew that she was mad based on how she ignored his voicemails, emails, and text messages, but he still retained some hope that if she saw him and he managed to pull back that restitstance as he had managed all that time ago she could forgive him.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Nigel-Murray..." Brennan said sympathetically. She never liked to get involved with the private lives of her interns, but seeing the pure heartbreak compelled something within her.

"I-it's quite alright, Dr. Brennan." He continued, voice breaking. "I did throw up on her in the middle of the street and...break her heart. I'm sure I deserve it." He tried to smile and retain some sense of dignity over his crushed spirit.

"Actually, since the heart is a muscle it can't break."

"Sweetie! So not the time…"

* * *

"You said this was my decision; you told me that you'd support me." Michelle's frustration was growing in tandem with her mother's, it seemed. She wanted to follow her boyfriend Derrick to a college in Maine. It was a truly fine school though, maybe, not a fantastic one but she wasn't about to let Cam onto that.

Cam's face became more sincere or at least tried to be. She didn't _hate_ Derrick, but she didn't _like_ him either. "Yes, but when I see that you might be making a mistake-"

"So, you're not supporting me?" Michelle retorted coldly. It was a tense mood, but they had been in these types of arguments so often lately that it was almost down to a routine.

"Unconditionally?" Cam wanted to add that she meant unconditionally until she noticed Michelle might be steering towards similar mistakes that she had herself made, no matter how fresh they were. It was what most mothers wanted, but Cam knew that mentioning this would only bring up more scorn and Michelle was upset enough already

Michelle knew that Cam was obligated to be a stingy mother in times like these, but so intense was her pressure it had to be something more. "You know, just because your British boy toy is back doesn't mean you can take it out on me." She scoffed. It wasn't exactly hard to figure it out. Though Cam tried very hard to keep everything from Michelle, it had been fairly easy to piece together what had happened between her and Vincent through the _several_ voicemails he had left on their home phone. She stood up to go, her patience completely wanning at this point.

"B-British boy toy? What on earth are you talking about?" Cam stood up too. She had thought teenagers were easy to hide things from considering their typical self-absorption.

"Cam, do you seriously think I don't know? He doesn't just call your phone, he calls the house phone too and he has been for the past _seven_ months." Michelle crossed her arms.

Cam's mouth gaped as her face cringed. "Y-you didn't talk to him, did you?"

"No, but you should be the one talking to him." Michelle asserted. "What makes you think you can judge Derrick and I when you can't even figure out your own relationship?" If her mother was going to judge her, she was going to throw it right back.

"We were not in a relationship, Michelle! It's not that simple." Cam clarified. She was being unfair, granted, but it was what she was supposed to do. "He was selfish, immature, and it bothered me; _and_ he's clearly been seeing other people so it doesn't even matter anymore!" Saying it out loud, giving her hurt full life, brought a tightness in her chest and tension behind her eyes.

Michelle raised an eyebrow. "If it doesn't matter anymore, why are you yelling?"

Cam made an annoyed face. She had thought that her coworkers knowing about her "non-relationship" with Vincent was bad, but she now realized that her daughter knowing was much worse.

"He's obviously still crazy about you; if he wasn't then he wouldn't be still calling, dudes aren't that complicated." Michelle grabbed her bag. "You seriously need to chill out your expectations for everybody's sake. I'll see you at home." She threw the comment over her shoulder as she left Cam, startled and off balance once again.

 **Author's note: I know I said there would only be two more chapters after chapter 11, but ahh I might end up going to fourteen chapters! It's so much, I know, but I need to relish in this ship for as long as I can, and I know that super super long chapters can be a bit much.**


	13. I Could Kiss You

After her and Michelle's argument, Cam simply didn't have the energy to go after her. What she had said was cutting, but she certainly wasn't wrong. Of course she felt bad about leaving Vincent in the lurch, but forgiving him would demand another round of self-sacrifice that she wasn't willing to give, not again at least.

Cam was so glued into her emotional strain, she hadn't even noticed Angela sitting across from her behind the stacks of college catalogues. "Cam? Hellooo?" She waved a hand in front of Cam's face.

"Oh! Angela! What's up?" She broke from her contemplative sit with her chin in her hands.

"I just wanted to let you know that Hodgins is _very_ invested in this idea of getting everyone together to tell them about the baby."

"But...everyone already knows."

Angela squinted her face to acknowledge that. "Yep, I know, that probably wasn't very smart on my part, but I'd rather not let my brand-spanking new husband down so soon." What Hodgins lacked in intuition, he more than made up for in sensitivity. "So, when he invites you to come to the Founding Fathers I need you to put on the biggest, brightest act you possibly can."

"Founding Fathers? I _love_ the Founding Fathers!" Cam's fabricated enthusiasm shocked both of them. "Was that good enough?"

"Y-yeah, should be good enough." Angela nodded with a smile. "Speaking of babies...I ran into Michelle while I was coming up here to find you and she looked pretty pissed off. College prep not going well?" She asked, for Cam's sake alone.

" _Apparently_ , it's not about the college stuff. Michelle seems to think I'm taking out my frustration about breaking up with Vincent out on her since he's back at the lab...and also won't stop calling."

This made Angela smirk while she playfully rest her chin on her hand. "Huh, I didn't know that you could break up with people you weren't even dating." Cam's cheeks blushed, causing Angela to laugh. "Look, in all seriousness, I think you might be going about this the wrong way."

Cam tried to keep her eyes from rolling. "Funny, Michelle said the exact same thing."

"Well, you did raise quite the smart girl. But Cam," she reached out a hand to her in a sympathetic plea. "You should've seen his face earlier today when you mouthed off to him about Michelle, it was literally the saddest thing ever. I think it even managed to get to Brennan, of all people."

Hearing this actually caused an ache somewhere in Cam's heart. She could easily recall how upsetting Vincent's pitiful look was whenever Brennan dismissed him. "But you don't know what it felt like, Angela, it was absolutely humiliating. I _have_ to maintain some semblance of authority around here."

"Cam, people do stupid things when they're drunk. If they didn't, well, I probably wouldn't be carrying a little Hodgins quite as early in our marriage." This made both of them laugh, and Angela appreciated her ability to encourage a smile out of Cam. "Maybe you don't have to start seeing him again, but you could at least forgive him, and hopefully be just a bit nicer."

She considered the sincerity in Angela's face and voice, but being nice and forgiving were very different things.

* * *

"Yes, yes, but with the hair dryers, we can localize the heat distribution!" Vincent pleaded, holding the box of hair dryers he had managed to scrounge up. He needed at least one win today.

"I'm gonna turn the lamps on now to melt the chocolate and to stop you from talking." Hodgins resolutely flipped the switch on the lamps. Vincent cast his eyes away, Hodgins was being quite the grouch—more so than usual—and it was wearing hard on his already thin self-esteem. He was really trying to make the most of this case despite his sore heart and the constant painful awkwardness.

"Stop! Turn the lamps off!" Cam disturbed Vincent's lament when she burst onto the platform. "I was going over Angela's 3-D images of the remains and I found something. See these circles?" She pointed to the screen, almost out of breath.

"It looks like intestinal gas." Vincent remarked.

"It's bubbles in the chocolate, trapped 29 centimeters and 32 centimeters above the victim's mandible."

"Are you saying the chocolate trapped the victim's final breath?" Hodgins asked with a somewhat astonished expression.

"Well," Cam countered. "I'm no expert in viscosity, but-"

"I am." Vincent asserted with a slight smile. No matter how angry she was, Vincent was going to impress her, even if it got him strangled by Hodgins. "In fact, on Jeopardy."

"Oh, make your point." Hodgins groaned. A part of Hodgins wished he had strangled Vincent in a vat of chocolate.

Vincent signed as he felt his last-ditch effort of wooing and dignity fade away. "In any endothermic reaction the surface molecules are always the first to become stable. Therefore, it's possible that a gaseous bubble could form in the warmer liquid but become trapped against the solid surface."

Remembering what Angela had said, Cam was trying her best to maintain her composure and patience, it was the least she could do, maybe. "I couldn't get any useful data from the soft tissue, so the bubbles are all I've got. If they melt away-"

"Ah," He piped as a giddy sensation was building in his muscles, _this_ was his chance. "but we can cut out these sections and freeze them until we discover a way to extract the gas trapped in the bubbles."

"Excellent! Do it." This was exactly why she was as glued to her job as much as she was. Michelle was wrong, sometimes her high expectations could actually be met. For the first time today, Cam was feeling pure jubilation; while every facet of her personal life could be in the toilet at least she'd have the bubbles. So elated, however, she slipped. "Mr. Nigel-Murray if I didn't have self control I would kiss you!"

Vincent quickly turned around with a hitch in his throat. Wide eyed, his managed a small smile though he felt like his heart was going to burst from his chest as he watched her quickly leave. He certainly hadn't expected something like _that_ , he was still the one that vomited on her, right?

"No interesting facts off that?" Hodgins added with his arms crossed and a wide smile. Seeing Vincent appear so dumbfounded, as if hit by a truck, was almost as enjoyable as strangling him, Hodgins decided.

"Y-yeah, in fact the satisfaction that human beings take from fantasizing is-it's directly related to-uh, no, I don't. There's no facts on…" Vincent sputtered nervously. "Will you excuse me, for a second?"

Walking away, a part of Cam did curse herself for the last part. It qualified as nice and encouraging, right? It was just about the bubbles, really it was, no more Freudian slip crap.

"Cam- Dr. Saroyan!" Vincent caught up to her once she reached the autopsy room. He truly had no idea what he could call her anymore. Cheeks flushed, he tried to stifle a smile. "L-look, you may have been avoiding me, but we need to talk a-about all of this."

Cam, still hyper with activity, glanced around anxiously as if to find some kind of escape. "I just got a bit too excited about the bubbles, okay? Please do not read into it." Her tone was strong, but it betrayed the blush on her cheeks.

Vincent's smile was gone, now replaced with fresh irritation. "I...cannot continue like this, knowing that you hate me, you treat me like you _despise_ me, but then you still pull at my heart like this when I do manage to get your approval."

Cam longed to look away from his pleading eyes. "Vincent, maintaining a professional environment is my biggest priority, our...history is secondary." Her expression was tight now; she would be nice but she was not going to let him in. "I-I didn't mean to say what I said back there, okay? I would've said it in jest to any intern." She turned to her desk, attempting to busy herself with paperwork and put an end to the conversation even though her cheeks were burning, in frustration and embarrassment.

He fidgeted with his hands as his agitation mounted against her resistance. "But I simply don't know what you want me to do! I know what I did that night was embarrassing and all of the drunken, and well sober, phone calls but if I could take it back, I could. I want to get serious about rehab, actually."

Her breathing became shallow as she continued to look away. "That's not…look, we've both moved on. At the end of the day, I'm your boss, and it's my job to keep things civil." She forced herself to meet his eyes. "I'm really...sorry, but It's better this way if we stay professional."

They had never had the sobering, legitimate breakup and now that they had the air was altogether colder as all hope and whimsy drifted away. Without the alcohol clogging their systems, the shared hurt felt almost too intense. "I'm not g-going to do professional and civil because I feel like I'm falling-"

The strictness in her face became more sad and upset as her eyes crumbled with a light suggestion of tears. "You...do not get to say that to me." She cut him off, not even allowing him to forway into that topic.

His face constricted at this; she had tied up and dismissed all of their time together like it was nothing without even giving a truly legitimate reason. He couldn't have been feeling what he felt alone; he was so fully enamoured that not even being yelled at or living in another country could jostle them away from him.

With a sharp intake of this air and without another word, he managed to move his shaky, numb muscles to leave the room.


	14. I Gave What I Gave

"Do you have the injury on an X-ray?" Brennan asked Vincent. Through his debilitating heartache, he was attempting to focus his energy on scrutinizing the bones to find any another anomalies that could help with the investigation, and to his pleasure he managed to notice something peculiar about the victim's unhealed fracture.

"Looks like a small rock," Brennan noted while carefully analyzing at the fracture on the screen.

"Oh!" The mention of rock triggered a jolt in his fast-paced brain as he jabbed Brennan with his pen to get her attention. "Rock was the subject of my only disputed Jeopardy answer."  
Brennan turned around with a frown. Unlike Cam, she was not focused on keeping her composure. "Is this relevant, Mr. Nigel-Murray?"

"The category was 'Famous Jameses,'" He continued, unphased by her annoyed expression and dwindling patience. "The question: 'He is widely considered the best rock guitarist of all time.' So, obviously, my answer: 'Who is Jimmy Page?' But no! The response they're looking for- 'Who is Jimi Hendrix?'" His expressive eyes seemed to widen in frustration with every syllable.

"Mr. Nigel-Murray-" She was beginning to grit her teeth in frustration.

"I know! I know, Jimi Hendrix! Okay, first of all, Jimmy Page is a better musician. That's a fact! And Jimi Hendrix's birth name is Johnny so-so he doesn't even fit into the category! L-like how on earth and I suppose to consider an answer when it's not _even_ in the category! The world honestly can't expect me to be quite so intuitive, I am no mind reader! It's like—"

"Mr. Nigel-Murray, I suspect that this passionate—albeit irrelevant—anger over a rock called Jimi Hendrix is somehow...unrelated to a disputed trivia answer." She asserted as his expressive hands stopped in mid-air.

"E-excuse me, Dr. Brennan?" His active face became void of excitement or frustration as he stood there, dumfounded at her shift.

"I do not believe in wasting precious work time on personal issues—especially with those of my interns—but when I suspect that they could be hampering one's focus and temperament, I believe it might be cause to...intervene." She typically prided herself on her cold and reserved approach, but there was always some part of her that sympathized with Vincent the most out of all of her interns. He wasn't stingy, or _too_ hyper, or moody, and she actually found that she could relate to him the best.

"O-Oh, no, no personal conflicts here." He playfully waved his pen around his head as his mood calmed down. It was a lie, sure, but he did not revel in the idea of exposing his innermost insecurities and turmoil to the distant Dr. Brennan. "F-fun fact; Switzerland eats the most chocolate of any country, equating to 10 kilos-"

"While many have noted my poor ability to register emotional cues, I would postulate that you aren't being entirely honest with me and are attempting to distract me from the topic at hand." Though relatively soft, her light-green eyes were digging into him. "You're taking issue with...Dr. Saroyan, aren't you?"

Vincent sweated nervously at the mere mention of her name. "I-I suppose that I am, but of course you know everything that happened on that front…" He acknowledged while nervously turning his gaze away from her.

The look on his face brought a tense, sad expression on her own. "Though I often feel that you and I share similar personalities, I would also say that Dr. Saroyan and I are also very similar. We certainly have our differences, but we are both working women of science before anything else." Registering her uncharacteristically sympathetic expression, he felt a churning in his nerves to pay attention.

"When someone that we care about attempts to supersede that barrier, we may feel off balanced and possibly react in a way we don't intend to…" She trailed off as she felt her own emotions building, her own heartache bubbling to the surface.

He slowly nodded as he felt the full weight the emotional shift. He could register where she was coming from, and it was from a place not unlike his own, though he didn't press her on it and allowed her to continue.

"We may initially think that it is from a sense of annoyance or protocol, but it's deeper than that, Mr. Nigel-Murray." The palpable emotion was a surprise to both of them though it was not entirely unwarranted.

"I think I understand now, Dr. Brennan." He gave her a hopeful smile. A part of him wanted to give her a comforting touch on the arm as he saw a shine develop in her eyes, but he resided himself not to push at the emotional allowance any more than she already had.

It hadn't been really about the drinking or the public humiliation, not entirely anyway. He had managed to disrupt something deeper and more delicate that truly couldn't be mended by a flurry of voicemails, it had been Cam's sense of self.

* * *

"What do you want now?" Cam complained from across Sweets, though she wasn't giving to a full sit and was choosing to stand as some kind of power move.

"Please, Dr. Saroyan, sit down." Sweets tried to coax Cam with his most sincere yet professional tone. "Just a while ago, Hodgins had something pretty interesting to tell me about you and Michelle."

Cam's face tensed in panic but she tried to tone it down the best she could.

"He said that he actually saw you writing her college essays for her, quite feverishly, if I might add. Academic dishonesty aside, didn't she already tell you that she was going to a state school and wasn't going to apply anywhere else?" He left the spot open for her to chime in with her flurry of parental guilt.

"Dr. Sweets, Michelle is a teenage girl in love and she had no idea what she wants or what's best for her." She caved and allowed herself to sit, but still with some reservation. There truly were no boundaries between personal and professional in their workplace, she thought bitterly.

"And you just so happen to know what's best for _her_ life?" He questioned smoothly with a phrasing thick with intent and accusation.

"Yes! While I love her, I am an adult woman which makes my judgement and demeanor much sounder than hers." She asserted. This rally of questioning was only managing to agitate her anger further. Was everyone truly out to get her today?

He sunk down into his arm chair, letting the psychological irony wash over him. "Interesting…" There was some side of him that was enjoying this interrogation against her cutting tone. "Because I, along with some of your colleagues, would argue that you yourself don't know what's best for you nor what you want."

Her eyes narrowed in annoyance and she crossed her arms defensively. She wanted her feelings to exist inside a vacuum, unknown to everyone else and exist entirely her own. "Was this just some kind of ploy to get me to talk about Vincent because Angela, Booth, and everyone's mother has already tried that."

"Ah!" Sweets sat up, almost giddy in excitement. "That's interesting that your mind immediately went to Vincent. Considering his adventures in Jeopardy and more, well, explicit adventures in Thailand he still proves to be a source of conflicting emotions for you."

"Well, o-of course it is…" Cam offered stiffly. "But this is about Michelle and I, not my _whatever_ with him. Simply because everyone knows about it doesn't mean that everyone has a right to talk to me about it."

"Y'know, Dr. Brennan claims that she was the first to notice your guys' relationship but I swear, I just knew that day when you came into my office!" He allowed himself to absorb this psychological triumph. "Oh! You know what everyone has been dying to know; does he still ramble about facts when you two are-" Her face tensed in anger at this, forbidding Sweets from prodding any further.

"Ok! Ok! Sorry…" Eyes wide in panic, he retreated and sunk back into his chair. "Just let me say this, alright?"

She nodded, though still with a lingering sense of irritation.

"I would say that there is a part of you that resents Michelle's unabashed love for her boyfriend. She _knows_ that she loves him, she _knows_ that she wants to go to school with him. You, on the other hand, are in a much more uncertain place, and you may even long for the certainly that Michelle places in her boyfriend. Instead of allowing yourself to really _be_ in this relationship with Vincent you're overthinking things, feeling insecure, and taking out your jealously on him."

"But I," Cam began, though still at a loss for words following his statement. "I don't _hate_ him. It's...complicated. It just took a lot for me to allow myself to be with him, and I didn't understand that at the time." Her body language caved inwardly. This was one of those unsettling moments of weakness that she couldn't even handle admitting to anyone, not even to herself.

"How would he know that if you don't tell him?" Sweets asked with his hand against his chin in thought. The familiar phrase hit her hard and unleashed a pounding in her head and her heart. Her mind—scattered and fevered—stirred up the image of his sad, blue eyes, delicate mouth, soft nose, and expressive eyebrows. It had been a compelling and wrenching sight that time he had kissed her out of comfort, maybe even before that, and it still was now.

"I have bubbles to analyze, Dr. Sweets." She quickly stood up to leave without waiting for him to protest.

In the elevator, Cam considered her limited and sometimes frigid heart. Like Brennan, she longed to keep it closed and contained to ward off distracting and potentially harmful invaders. But unlike Brennan, she had managed to let someone in—several someones actually over the past few years—without really noticing it. This was a risk for her reasoned brain, but for her churning heart, it just might be a risk she had to take.

* * *

An inexplicable magnetism carried Vincent to the sitting area of the catwalk. Someone like Angela or Booth would argue it was fate and stemmed his connection to this particular place in the lab and to _her_ ; Dr. Brennan would claim that it was simply his fallible emotions trying to make up a reason for why he wanted to sit and think here. And what would Cam say? Well, she was in the middle, "undecided" about everything.

He simply needed someplace free of distraction, feet firmly planted on the ground to try and absorb the chaos of his racing mind. His wandering senses fell onto the glittering sunset that had started to glow behind the glass ceilings of the lab. Maybe he wasn't mature enough for this and his passionate sense of youth fooled him into believing that he was. He could have deep feelings for another person, but that didn't apply to being able to understand _what_ the other person was feeling. One could focus all of this time and emotion, fantasize and pine for a real life together all they wanted. This didn't qualify as truly _knowing_ them, though, and it didn't forgive him for what he did to her either.

His untrained eyes fluttered from the warm glow of setting sun to the glint of pink and orange in a familiar set of soft, brown eyes.

"Camille! C-Cam, urm, Dr. Saroyan." His uncoordinated body sprung up when Cam's presence caught him by surprise.

"No no, you can sit, Vincent. I-I think it'd prefer it, actually." His jumpy limbs were typically very cute, but now they were only making her more nervous. She reached out a hand to his chest to settle him, and the contact—though small—made them both jump a bit.

Sitting down next to her, a lump of consternation grew in his throat. Being so close to her he just wanted to hold her and beg for her for her forgiveness, but he forced himself to fester in his mistake and regret.

"I'm sorry about-" They both began at the same time which brought on a stiff laugh from both of them. Vincent nervously reached at his collar. "Y-you can go ahead." His numb muscles pulled together to form a shaky smile.

Cam took a sharp intake of breath with her hands firmly planted on her legs for support. "That night when I showed up at your apartment?" She asked, tentatively given the sensitive territory.

He nodded with a blush across his cheeks. "I remember, yes." A smile crept along his mouth when that night came to mind, but he tried to stay mature and can it.

"I thought that it was all just about the whole, workplace issue, but I ended up…feeling a lot more than I had comfortably bargained for that night, and I wasn't willing to admit that. During the farewell party, I was embarrassed to have given you so much of myself and as a result didn't act in the fairest way." There was a whirring behind her eyes, a lightness in her lungs as a reaction to her vulnerability. "It wasn't about the puking, or the break-up, or even your leaving for Jeopardy, it was...more than that, I think."

"I know…" He trailed off, kneading his delicate hands in his lap. He felt too ashamed to look at her. "But I still shouldn't have let the bloody hooch ruin everything and make it seem like I didn't appreciate your sacrifice, or that I didn't feel as strongly." He took a second to control his breathing. "and-and I shouldn't have escaped to Jeopardy and Thailand; I shouldn't have abandoned you along with everyone else."

"But you had to get over me, I understand that…" She provided, softly. She truly didn't like being reminded of the idea that he not only had all of these exciting experiences away from her, and also the annoying fact that he had proudly canoodled with who knew how many women.

"I didn't, though, that's the thing." Quickly, he sputtered defensively. "I will admit, I attempted to find comfort elsewhere, but I-I backed out every time. I know I sensationalized it a tad to Hodgins, and I only did so just so him and everybody else would think that I was okay and unbothered. But truthfully…it just felt so shallow and-and wrong to be that close with anyone else." He now allowed himself to gaze at her with his brilliant eyes, trying to understand the veiled motive behind her equally brilliant, equally sad ones.

Cam's throat constricted and more warm blood rushed to her face. She had expected that he would be exhausted by her mean behavior—it was what she deserved and all—not an outpour of this intensity and warmth. A small strand of hair fell free of her up-do, but she was too struck by his words to tuck it away.

"But now after gaining some 'insight,' I can quite understand if you can't be with someone who isn't mature enough to understand and respect reservations like that. I-I truly won't hold that against you." Like Brennan, he was choosing to retreat away from his affection, away from what he truly wanted for some kind of greater good.

"Mature enough? No," Cam sat closer to him with a more relaxed posture now. " _I_ can understand if _you_ don't want to be with someone who is too rigid to full accept your…feelings." She offered sympathetically. This was yet another unexpected turn that the conversation was taking.

Vincent's eyes widened and he gave a soft chuckle. "Well," Chin in his palm, he turned closer to her. He lazily, but gently, let his forefinger graze her knee. "If I'm too good for you, and you're too good for me then, what does that mean?"

Considering the glint of pink and orange in his own eyes, she smiled. "I guess we're just right." Gingerly, she placed her hand over his that rested on her knee. She just allowed herself to hold him each other there in a place of pure admiration and care.

He carefully leaned in, fully aware now, and reached for the stray hair gentle hung near her face with the hand that had been holding his chin. Their faces were almost touching as this new, better reality fell around them. The first time they had been this close, in this same place, the air was one of intimacy but colored with a sense of trepidation and unfamiliarity. Now, it was one of complete assurance.

Tucking it behind her ear, he let his delicate palm remain against her cheek, and savoring the fizz in his nerves when he _really_ felt the softness of her face. He always considered that the first time he gave her that electric fizz had been when he saw her with her hair in the autopsy room. But no, that feeling was far more explicit and was more conscious than what he felt now.

This raw feeling Vincent was experiencing had a more implicit origin; it was the very first time she had singled him out. His palm fully resting on her knee now, he recalled the moment after he had finished his first case. He had politely begged Cam to get him out of the internship since he was so turned off by Dr. Brennan's coldness, but as he was about to leave she called him, with her winning smile, "Vinodelectable," and it had sent such a rush to his system that the next day he hurriedly withdrew his request to cancel his internship. All he wanted was to make her smile that that again, and now he was truly grateful that he had returned to do just that.

"Did you know that it's absolutely impossible to kiss your own elbow?"

Cam smiled at this and rolled her eyes in the 'oh you' manner and gingerly tilted her head to finally to kiss him, allowing herself to feel the full weight of their closness now.

It was how he could never falter in making her smile, and how much her smile captivated him and left him completely stupefied in its beauty. Nothing could make him ache as much as her long, flowing hair did; and nothing could make her as doe-eyed and breathless as his beautiful cobalt eyes could. These unsuspecting feelings and others had manifested themselves into something that was almost electric, yet undefinable at the same time.

He had wanted to do better, and so did she. They were many reasons why they theoretically shouldn't be sharing such deep feelings and emotion, though the buzzing feeling of attraction between them didn't care about those flimsy theoretical ideas.

 _The moment that you tell them's the end of where you're at_

 _And once it's set in motion you will not be looking back_

 _And what they thought was perfect and what they thought was fact_

 _Will uncover a beauty that they never could expect_

" _Under Wraps," Her's_

 **Author's Note: AH it's so cliché, making up by sunset, but gah I love it.**

 **BIG thank you to everyone who has taken their time to read this crazy story, especially to FictionWriter91 for reviewing every chapter!**

 **I definitely don't think I'm done writing about these two; I'm actually planning on writing a sequel to Sweet Wine to Vinegar and may write one or two AU short stories!**

 **Oh, what could've been. ~~**


End file.
